Teenage Mutant Agent Avengers
by PlushChrome
Summary: The Avengers and Loki, working against Hydra, are "killed" in action. A year later, SHIELD takes down a secret Hydra base only to find a group of super teens, mutated and experimented on for months before having their memories wiped. With Hydra in control of the earth, there's only one thing to do: Train the New(?) Avengers into agents, all while searching for answers.
1. Prologue: The Start of a War

_Author's note: I know, I know. I have so many stories that need updating, I really have no business posting another. But this story, this stroke of genius, came to me a few months back and I already have the first seven chapters completed. So for the next seven weeks at least, you'll be getting regular updates (one or two days off, depending on how forgetful I am). I promise, I'll still update my other stories as often as I can. I even made it my New Year's Resolution, to complete all stories I have currently published._

_ANYWAY. __**IMPORTANT ABOUT THIS STORY:**__ This story is AU in that Iron Man 3 and Thor 2 never happened, and Loki is a member of the team without explanation. He's just there. This chapter is more of a prologue, the rest of the story will start next week and will be mostly from Clint's point of view (except he won't know he's Clint, of course). Please enjoy. :)_

* * *

As Fury stood in the helicarrier and watched the live video feed, he had a bad feeling in his gut. This was not going to end well.

The agents were all sitting on the edge of their seats with bated breath, watching as the Avengers moved in on the threat: The giant Hydra robotic spider, rampaging through Cluj-Napoca. The message had come through about an hour ago, overriding all stations and playing on every television, every cell phone, and every computer with internet access.

"Attention world officials," The message had stated. "This is Hydra. We have developed a weapon with enough power to destroy the continent of Europe. Surrender to us or face your death."

Needless to say, the Avengers had been brought in, and now, as they arrived on the scene, SHIELD wasn't the only organization in the world watching the live feeds. Every news station was playing it, everywhere. The entire world could see what was going on in Cluj-Napoca. And in Fury's experience, whenever the entire world was watching anything, it never ended well.

But even Fury found himself holding his breath as Iron Man reached the spider first, blasting it with a few repulsor rays.

"There's Iron Man now," One news reporter on some channel stated. "But where are the rest of the Avengers?"

Of course, Stark always insisted on flying ahead. Fury wasn't sure whether it was because Tony liked showing off, his suit being faster than Fury's quinjets, or if he always did this to keep the others safer. Or if he liked a mixture of both. Stark never gave a reason and Fury never asked. But whatever the reason, it always worked out well, as by the time the rest of the team got there, Iron Man would have information to give them, and they could form a good game plan.

Speaking of the others, the quinjet had arrived at the scene. The many different reporters talking from the many different channels they had playing reminded Fury of sports commentaries.

"Captain America throws his shield, gets the spider's attention," said one.

"And there's Thor, swinging his hammer and lighting up the robot," said another.

"I think… Yep, there's Hawkeye up on that tower, he's responsible for that explosion you just saw," Says yet a third.

And so the battle wages, as the world waits.

There's a moment of cheering as the spider goes down… and then groans as three more rise up elsewhere.

The team continues fighting, they're in top form, working together seamlessly to take down the beasts. They've come a long way since their first coming together, and the enemies of the world all knew that the Avengers stood between them and their goals.

Maybe that's why Fury is so uneasy today. The first rule you learn in his… line of work… is to stay as small as possible. The bigger you are, the more people take notice. Instead, you have to be little. You have to be quiet. You have to be able to walk along the side of a room, perfectly visible, yet hiding in plain sight. If you're the one in the middle of the room, in the best suit, stealing all the attention, well… you're a sniper's easiest target.

Just ask Stark.

"And there's Iron Man, he's… he's shooting flares at the head of one of the robots," reports one station. "He seems to be drawing it's fire away from that building… And there's Captain America, leading civilians through the front door."

They're a well oiled machine, the Avengers are doing the best job they've done.

It's too easy.

The thought hits him with no warning, and without justification. There's no intel, he doesn't see any warnings, it's just a gut feeling. And Fury has learned over the years that his instincts rarely lead him astray.

"Patch me through," he orders urgently, snapping his finger at the nearest agent and placing an earpiece in his ear.

"Excuse me?" The agent asks.

"Patch me through," Fury demands, angrily this time. "NOW!"

"Y-yes sir," The Agent says, typing on his computer quickly.

Fury waits.

One spider goes down.

"Sir, there's some kind of interference," The Agent says. "I… I can't get a signal."

"Keep trying," Fury commands, all eyes on him. "Everybody. Patch. Me. Through."

His no-nonsense order has everyone typing by now, and there's an anxiousness in the air that wasn't there moments earlier.

"Sir," someone says. "Look!"

He's pointing at one of the monitors, where the live coverage is showing… Steve, frowning in concentration and tapping at his ear.

Fury glances at another monitor, where Hawkeye is doing the same.

Their signals are blocked too, he realizes. They lost communication with each other.

Iron Man lands beside Captain America, and his faceplate comes up. Hawkeye swings down as Loki materializes there, and Thor lands while the Black Widow appears seemingly out of nowhere for the impromptu meeting. The Hulk, seeing them gathered, runs to join.

Suddenly, the first spider, the one that had been brought down, begins to vibrate. The Avengers, all right around the corner, don't see the threat. The reporters are commenting with urgency and fear, some even yelling for the Avengers to move, despite knowing that they cannot be heard.

Fury braces himself, feeling, for the first time in a long time, fear, and a cold acceptance of that fear. This is it.

The spider explodes. The city is bathed in orange light as the fire burns through the entire block, burning blue and white, for three full seconds, before suddenly slowing, stopping, and being sucked back towards the spider, disappearing in much the same manner as a black hole.

The city is quiet. The reporters don't utter a sound. The agents in the helicarrier are stunned into silence. Not a whisper of a breath is heard.

The monitors all seem to be frozen, they are all still pointed at the same spot. There's no rubble in the site of the explosion. It's almost as if everything within two-hundred feet of the explosion just… ceased to exist.

The only sign of the buildings, the streets, the sidewalks… the Avengers… is the dark cloud of ash blowing in the wind.

The stations suddenly burst alive with sound, everyone everywhere wailing and screaming. Hope is lost. The Avengers are dead. Hydra has… won.

Fury turns to the Agents. "Turn them off," he orders quietly. The monitors go off. Everyone stares. Fury waits for several moments before sighing. Looking at everyone sadly (and watching them all freak at his display of sadness) he does the one thing he had hoped and prayed he would never have to do.

"I call a Code-89B7-6," he said.

There was a collective jaw-drop.

"Sir," Maria Hill said, eyes wide. "You mean…"

Fury nodded.

Hill let out a slow, deep breath before turning to the crowd. "SHIELD has never existed," she commanded rather than explained. "Wipe all hard-drives. Erase all databanks. Everyone, report to the hanger for transport. We're going Ghost. Pick a country of origin and stick to your Quinjet. Look alive, people, we self-destruct in ten minutes."

Everyone sets about to work in a flurry of panic, and Fury slowly leaves the bridge for the last time.

Phil Coulson follows him. "Sir," he says angrily. "We're not really leaving!?" It's a question, but also a statement of disbelief.

Fury turns and looks at Coulson. Phil's eyes are red; he's already forced himself to pull it together. Tough man, as he was good friends with all of the Avengers. "Yes, Agent, we are," Fury answers. For the sake of anyone within hearing distance. Leaning in a little closer, he allows a smirk. "Unless you're level nine," he says, just loudly enough for Coulson to hear.

Coulson looks slightly confused, but only for a moment, then he smiles. "You know," he says, standing up straighter. "I never was one for foreign food. I think I'll stick around the states for awhile."

"Good luck, Agent," Fury says. "I'm sure we'll stay in touch."

Phil turns and leaves, and Fury walks the other direction. The death of the Avengers is no doubt already being mourned all over the world, and he's too busy to join in. But even Fury isn't heartless, and before he leaves, he goes into the conference room, and he sits in one of the leather chairs. He leans on the glass table-top, and he allows himself one moment- just one… and he stands. He _is_ a soldier. And from this moment on, he has a war to fight.


	2. All There Is

Around ten months later~

_He was in a box. Vividly, he saw every detail: the dimensions of the box, the color of the box, the tubes coming into the box from all directions, some pouring fumes into it, alternating between gases and oxygen. Some of the tubes were very small, clear tubes with liquids of different hues slowly oozing past, into the needles in his arms and neck. He was tied down, he was paralyzed, he was petrified. Whatever the cause, he couldn't move. He was burning all over, his heart beating painfully in his chest, racing much, much too quickly. He screamed, but it didn't stop. He closed his eyes, but the blinding red darkness hurt his head. He opened them again, watching as over half of the tubes were filled with a deep red. Blood. They were replacing his blood. The hissing sound of the oxygen coming down the tubes changed ever so slightly, and in no time at all, he was getting light-headed. He tried to stay awake, he tried... Distracting himself by memorizing what he saw. Vividly, he saw every detail. He was in a box..._

Sitting up in a cold sweat, He looked around him, making sure he was still in his world. There was no box, that was good. Instead, he was where he had been every day for the past twelve days. A dimly-lit room with eight beds, one 100 Watt lightbulb in the center with no discernable on-off switch in the room, and a steel door that hadn't opened once since his time here. There were eight small steel windows on the other side of the room, that opened exactly every six hours (three out of four times), revealing a small steel box on the other side. One of the boxes always had a bowl of sustenance. After half an hour, the window would shut, and he'd learned that first day what happened if the bowl wasn't back inside when it happened. The next time the window opened, the sustenance had been loose in the box, spilling all over the place. After that first mistake, though, he'd known what to expect, and now, it was mealtime every six hours, three out of four times.

It was this regularity that allowed him to know how long he'd been here, and relatively what time it was. Breakfast time, six hours later: lunch time, six hours later: dinner time, then twelve hours of nothing: night time. He had repeated this cycle twelve times: he had been here for twelve days.  
Apart from the eight empty beds and the timed meals, however, he had only his nightmares to tell him there was something else, something he was missing. Was it normal to just wake up one day in an empty steel room, getting your meals served through boxes and suffering from nightmares every night? Somehow, he didn't think so, but without knowing anything else, had nothing else to compare it to. Maybe it was.

The steel window opened then, revealing today's special. Gray sustenance. Yum.

Standing, he went and took the bowl, walking with it over to the steel door. If he tried hard enough, he could make out his reflection in the door, just barely. He was fairly tall, he was well built. That was a plus, he guessed. He might as well be well built. His hair was short, and it was black. His eyes were also pure black, which, he felt, might be considered creepy for some reason. He'd already realized that the black eyes seemed to have made him able to see details very easily. Like the number of watts on the lightbulb, or the different shapes in the grain of the steel ceiling.

Other than that, there wasn't much to tell, he was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. But after having spent twelve days in relative boredom, he had nothing better to do than reconstruct his image in the steel door, even after having practically memorized it to begin with. But, then again, he'd practically memorized the entire room, as well.

The beds, each of them exactly the same, were seven feet long and two and a half feet across. They all stood two feet off the ground, and the sheets and blankets were all thin and gray. It didn't really matter, of course, the room always stayed the same temperature. The room itself was a long rectangle, twenty feet across and twenty-five feet in length. The beds were all up against the wall, four on each side, with five feet between each bed, and the aisle between the two rows also five feet in length. The door and the boxes (the boxes being six inches in perimeter, and a perfect square inside, each box three inches away from the other) were on opposite walls, in the center of the aisle. The ceiling was ten feet from the floor, which was a cold steel to match the door, the boxes, the walls, the beds and the ceiling, and pretty much the entire room was gray.

Finishing his breakfast, he put the bowl back in the box and resumed his daily activity of pacing the aisle, waiting for another six hours before lunch and wondering if this was all there was to life.

Apparently not.

Hearing the creak of metal, he turned around swiftly as two... people... in HAZMAT suits came walking in, dragging another guy behind them. The guy was unconscious, that much was obvious, but what really struck him was how buff the guy was. Seriously, if he was well built, this guy was huge. The guy was also a bit taller than he was, and the guy had long flowing blonde hair. That was weird. The guy appeared to be another teenager, and the guy was also wearing gray sweatpants and a gray t-shirt.

The HAZMAT dudes dropped the blonde guy on the floor and turned away.

"Hey, wait!" He called, suddenly realizing that he had just talked for the first time since he'd woke up here. His voice sounded weird to him. Like it wasn't the right one.

The HAZMAT dudes left and locked the door before he could get over his surprise and get to the door, leaving him alone with the unconscious dude.  
He remembered his awakening, face down on the cold hard steel. It had been... disorienting, to say the least. So, not wanting his new roommate to experience the same, he began lifting the guy, trying to drag him over to one of the other beds. It was slow going, but not as difficult as he'd expected. Probably because he was well built.

About half-way to the nearest bed, the guy began to moan and stir, and he stopped dragging. Apparently, it didn't take too long to wake up.

With a yell, the guy sat up and grabbed His wrist, making him yelp.

"Who are you!?" The guy demanded in an accent that sounded very Australian. "What have you done to me?"

"Dude, you're gonna break my arm," he exclaimed instead. "I'm a friendly, I'm a friendly!"

The guy blinked. "Oh," he said. "My apologies, friend." The guy let go of his arm.

"How came we here?" The guy asked, looking around.

"I, uh, I don't know," he said. "I was hoping you could tell me. You just got here. Some dudes brought you in."

"...Oh," the guy said, frowning in confusion. "Are we... imprisoned?"

He paused, thinking it over. "Yeah," he said finally. "I think we are."

"That is indeed grievous," the guy said. "How long have I been here?"

"About five minutes," he said. "I've been here twelve days."

"That is long," the guy said. "Tell me, is there food?"

"Just missed it," he said. "Breakfast left right before they brought you in. Lunch'll be in about... 5 hours, 24 minutes."

The guy sighed. "I feel very hungry."

"Yeah, that's how I felt when I first woke up," he said. "It'll pass once you get some sustenance, though. Then you'll only feel moderately hungry."

The guy nodded. "Well," the guy said. "Thank you, friend, for telling me all this."

"No problem," he said. "Hey, what's your name?"

The guy blinked. "My name?" he repeated.

"Yeah, he said. "Your name. Do you have one?"

"Do you?" The guy asked, eyes wide.

He thought this over. "...No," he said. "No, I don't think I do."

"We must give each other names, then," The guy said, clapping him on the back.

His back sparked with electricity. "Ow!" He exclaimed, backing away. "Jeeze, what was that!?"

"What was what?" the guy asked.

"That," He insisted. "You... shocked me!"

The guy looked at his hands. They appeared normal.

He took a step closer. Reaching out, he touched one of the guy's hands. It was electrically charged somehow. "Ow," he said again, though braced for it this time. "How about that... You're electrically charged, man."

"I am?" The guy said wonderingly, looking at his hand. "Strange."

"Yeah, strange," he said. "Maybe I'll call you Sparky."

The guy grinned. "I like that," he said. "But what shall I call you?"

He paused, he'd been kidding about Sparky. But, it did fit, and if the guy liked, it, well then, okay. "I don't know," he said. "What do you want to call me?"

"I shall call you Friend," Sparky declared.

"Wow," he said. "Cool, then, if that's what you want to do, I'm cool with it." It was kinda strange, but hey, he'd been in here alone for twelve days. If Sparky wanted to call him Friend, so be it. At least things were finally getting interesting.

* * *

The next four days passed relatively quickly, time going by faster when someone was there to talk to. Friend turned out to be right about his eyes, Sparky couldn't see nearly as much, even with so little to see. Sustenance had appeared in two of the boxes this time, which was good. Friend had been worried at first that he would have to share his sustenance with Sparky, but that had fortunately turned out not to be the case.

The nights were more interesting too, as it turned out that Sparky had nightmares. Friend had been woken from one of his own that first night, to hear Sparky muttering and mumbling illegibly in his sleep. He had woken Sparky and asked what he was dreaming about, and Sparky had said he had been trapped in a box and struck with red lightning.

Not sure what it meant, but remembering his own dreams of being in a box, Friend decided that the two of them must have been experimented on somehow. Maybe that was why they couldn't remember anything before this room, and that could also explain his black eyes and Sparky's sparks.  
Knowing this, Friend started thinking about the other six beds and boxes. How many more would end up imprisoned in this room with them?

He didn't have long to wonder, as four days after Sparky's arrival, the metal door opened again, and two more HAZMAT dudes dragged in another teenager, again ignoring Friend's demand for answers as they dropped him and took off, this time pointing weapons of some sort at Friend and Sparky to keep them away before leaving.

"Well, I guess they weren't in the mood for conversation," Friend said flippantly before turning to the newcomer. "Hey, move him to that bed over there, will ya?" He asked Sparky. This new kid wasn't as muscle-bound as Sparky, in fact, he looked slightly smaller than Friend himself, only much more pale, and his hair was all white and spiky. Whoever this kid was, he had to have been a punk. Hair wasn't like that normally.

Sparky picked him up easily and moved him to the bed, and after a few moments, the kid started to shift, lifting one hand to his head and covering his eyes.

"Too bright..." he muttered. "Dim the lights."

"They're dim enough already," Friend noted with a dry laugh. "Any more and it'll be too dark."

The kid moved his hand and opened his eyes. "That's better," he said.

Friend and Sparky stared. The kid's eyes were glowing. No literally, they were glowing blue, like a colored flashlight. In the low light, the affect was rather eery. The glowing eyes turned to him, and the kid frowned. "What?" He said. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Um," Friend said. "Are you aware that your eyes light up?"

The kid's frown deepened. "Are you aware that your eyes look like a shark's eyes?" He replied. "When they smell blood. Do you smell any blood right now? Are you part shark?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Friend stated. "How about you? Do you know who you are?"

The kid shook his head. "I'm running a search now."

"...What?" Friend asked.

The kid closed his eyes. "Nope, I got nothing. Access denied. Password needed. Anybody know a password? Anything, I'm willing to try it. I'm disconnected."

"I am afraid I know not of what you speak," Sparky said in confusion.

The kid opened his eyes and looked at Sparky. "It means I can't access the internet," he said. "Something's blocking my signal."

"You're not on a computer," Friend said. "There's nothing here. How can you be trying to access the internet?"

Worry flashed in the kid's glowing eyes, and he furrowed his brow. "...Well, that's not normal," he said quietly.

"What?" Sparky asked.

"Quick question: do either of you see lines of computer data when you close your eyes?"

Sparky closed his eyes experimentally.

Friend shook his head. "No," he said. "But I can see things that Sparky can't, and he can shoot electricity through his fingers. We're all a little abnormal."

"Sparky?" the kid asked. "His name is Sparky?"

"Well, no," Sparky said. "I did not have a name when I awoke, and so Friend was very gracious in providing one for me!"

"You named him Sparky?" the kid said, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly. "Like a dog? And what's your name, then? I mean, judging from the pattern, I'm assuming you didn't have one either."

"I have been calling him 'Friend," Sparky said joyfully.

The kid raised his eyebrows. "Friend?" He said. "Really? Okay, I'm not calling you that."

"What's wrong with Friend?" Sparky asked. "Surely you do not think he is an enemy!"

"What? Who said that?" The kid stated. "Although you can never be too sure. I just said I won't call him that. Way too soft for my tastes. I would feel mamby-pamby whenever it passed through my lips."

"You don't have to call me Friend," Friend said. "However, we have to figure out what to call you."

The kid frowned again as Sparky and Friend regarded him with thought. "I feel like I'm being scrutinized," he said. "Seriously. And your black eyes are kind of creeping me out."

"Because the light-up ones are so easy to get past," Friend said. "Seriously, it's like staring at a flashlight."

"Perhaps that is what we should call him!" Sparky suggested. "Flashlight!"

"Uh, no," The kid said, affronted. "No way! I'm not a camping accessory! You're not allowed to make any more suggestions."

"Maybe just Light, then," Friend tried.

The kid regarded this. "I'm... surprisingly okay with that," he said. "Alright, you can call me Light. So, he's Sparky, and I'm Light. Now we just need a new name for you."

Friend shrugged. "I've been Friend for four days," he said. "I've kinda got used to it."

"That doesn't change anything," Light said. "I'll think of something eventually."

He laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. It was still rather odd to see the two spots of light in his face, but Friend tried not to stare, and instead turned to Sparky, nodding to the corner of the room, where they went to wait for dinner and talk about the same stuff they'd already talked about for the past for days. Which wasn't much, but it was obvious that Light wanted to be left alone, so that's what they did.

When the sustenance arrived a few hours later, Friend called over to Light. "Hey, dinner's here," he said.

Light stood and walked over, frowning down at the food in disgust.

"Better eat it," Friend suggested. "You won't get anything else until morning, and that's all they give us anyway. You'll get used to it."

"Who are 'They,' and why are we trusting what they're giving us?" Light asked, poking at the food slightly.

Friend had wondered this many times, and the answer came readily to his lips. "They are the ones who put us here," he said. "And we're trusting what they're giving us because we have to. Whatever it is, it isn't poisonous, they obviously want us alive. Besides, I don't know about you, but I don't want to starve to death."

Again, a flash of worry showed in Light's eyes, and he sighed. "I suppose you're right," he said. Reaching in with his finger, he swiped a bit and stuck it in his mouth. "Well, it's no steak and mashed potatoes," he said after a minute. "But at least it doesn't taste bad. It doesn't taste at all, actually. It's completely flavorless. I wonder how they managed that. Food always has at least a bit of flavor."

"Do you psychoanalyze everything?" Friend asked in wonder.

"Do you accept everything without question?" Light responded challengingly.

"No," Friend said. "I just accept what I can't change."

"Ooh, don't ever do that," Light said. "Start accepting what you can't change and before you know it, you stop changing what you can't accept. Speaking of which, how do we escape?"

"Escape?" Sparky asked. "There is no way."

"Nonsense," Light said. "There's always a way."

Friend shook his head. "Believe me," he said. "I spent the first twelve days here memorizing the place. There really is no way out."

"The door?" Light asked.

"Solid as a rock," Friend answered. "It only opens to bring in another occupant, and then guarded by HAZMAT dudes with some kinda weapon."

Light nodded. "The windows?"

"As you can see, they're metal boxes. Food is deposited into the bowl through tubes in the top at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, six hours apart. Quick note on that subject, if you don't put the bowl back in the box, your next meal deposits in the box itself. So put the bowl back."

"Got it," Light said, turning his attention to the boxes themselves. Walking over, he leaned over and stuck his head in, examining the cube inside.

Friend mentally checked the time, he didn't want to see what would happen if Light's head was still in when the metal door snapped shut. They should have about twenty-two minutes at the least, before they started having to watch themselves.

"Hmm..." Light was saying. "Yeah, it's a basic release. Probably on a timer, if they're so regular. I wonder how fresh this food is."

Pulling his head out, he turned back to Friend. "Walls?" He asked.

"Solid steel, like the door and the floor," he said.

"Beds?"

"Steel. Melded, apparently. All in one piece, save the mattress, blanket and pillow."

Light nodded. "Air vents?" he asked.

"One," Friend stated. Over the door. Melded into the wall, no physical weaknesses."

"Got it," Light said, looking up at the vent. "Well, anyway," he said after a few moments, licking up the rest of his food. "That went by quick. What's the kitchen's policy on seconds?"

"Never had any," Friend said. "The food releases on a timer, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, a guy can try," Light said, putting the bowl back in the box. "Oh well. My compliments to the chef."

Friend wasn't sure what to make of Light. He seemed very smart, but at the same time, rather flippant, as if he wasn't taking any of this seriously. As Light very pointedly made his way back to his bed alone, Friend turned back to his own food. He found himself wondering if Light would have nightmares...

* * *

That night, when Light started thrashing and screaming in his bed, much worse than Sparky, Friend wasted no time in getting up and going over to Light's side to try and wake him.

"Light," he said. "Light, wake up, you're dreaming."

Light didn't seem to hear him, only became more violent at Friend's touch. Pulling away quickly, Light went over the other side of the bed.

By this point, Sparky was awake as well. "What has happened?" He asked.

"Nightmare," Friend stated, going around to the other side, where Light was sitting up groggily. The image was rather funny, and if the moment hadn't been so serious, Friend would have laughed.

As it was, he very cautiously approached. "Light," he said. "Are you awake?"

Light looked up at him, his expression a mixture of anger and fear. "Yes," he snapped. "Yes I am."

Friend put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Fine," he said. "I was just trying to help."

Light softened. "Sorry," he said. "I just..."

"Had a nightmare?" Friend finished sympathetically.

Light nodded. "Yeah," he said. "You get'em too?"

"Me and Sparky both," Friend said. "In mine, I keep waking up in a box, being pumped full of drugs and- and blood."

"And I also am in a box," Sparky said. "I am struck by red lightning."

Light was momentarily distracted. "Red lightning?" He said. "That's unusual. I wonder how they accomplished that."

"What about you?" Friend asked. "Were you in a box?"

Light looked suddenly defensive. "...No," he said. "I wasn't."

"I know you don't wanna hear this," Friend said. "But talking makes you feel better, I promise."

"You're right, I didn't want to hear that," Light said. "But fine. I wasn't in a box. I, uh, was strapped down to a table. There. I said it."

Well. That was different.

"What were they doing?" Friend asked.

Light huffed.

Friend raised an eyebrow.

"I was wearing an oxygen mask filled with something that really stank," Light said resignedly, rolling his eyes. "There were a bunch of people in HAZMAT suits... working on me. They were doing something to my... My..." Light frowned.

"Your what?" Sparky asked.

"I... I don't remember," Light said. "It was..." Trailing off, Light glanced down at his gray t-shirt. Reaching down, he pulled the hem of the shirt up over his chest, and all three teens gasped at what they saw. There, near the center of Light's chest, was another light, the same color of his eyes. The edge of the light started as cracked metal, and soon fused to his skin in nasty looking burns, some of them even looking somewhat dark, as if they had been dyed black by something.

Light put his shirt back down, looking slightly sick. "That's messed up," he said quietly. "But hey, that explains my eyes and my glowing personality." He reflected. "Maybe that has something to do with the computer in my head as well," he said. "Nah, I don't see how they'd be connected..."

He'd distracted himself by this point, and laying back down on his bed, closed his eyes and began muttering numbers and theories to himself.

Friend chuckled slightly. Light was certainly an enigma. Turning to Sparky, he nodded the situation handled, and went back to his own bed. First Sparky, now Light. He wondered when he would be getting another new roommate. Maybe life in this room didn't have to be so boring after all. And really, aside from the nightmares, nothing really bad was happening. Maybe They were done with them, after doing whatever They had, and were now content to leave them alone.

He could only hope.


	3. Spitfire

When the metal door opened seven days later, the three teens turned, expecting to see another drop off. Which was why they were surprised when the room was flooded with at least twenty HAZMAT dudes rushing over towards them and pushing Friend and Light to the floor, holding them down as the rest dragged a fighting Sparky from the room. The HAZMAT dudes holding down Friend and Light jumped up and ran from the room, slamming it shut behind them, and the two teens sat up and looked at each other.

"What was that!?" Light demanded, looking white.

Friend could only shrug. "I... That's never happened before, man," He exclaimed.

"I wonder what changed," Light said shakily, standing and walking over to the door, where he examined it thoroughly. "What do you think they're gonna do to him?"

Friend ran his hand over his mouth. "I'm trying not to," he said.

Light glanced at him and nodded. "I wish I could do that," he said. "The probability statistics are already piling in. They could be doing anything."

"Shut up, Light," Friend said. "Not helping."

"Sorry," Light said, walking over to his bed. Laying down, he closed his eyes and frowned.

Friend tried to ignore him, knowing by now what that meant. Light was reviewing the data.

Turning away, Friend went and sat on the edge of his own bed, trying to keep calm and not worry. But worry was taking over anyway. Even without Light's "data," his own imagination supplied him with ideas, ideas mainly consisting of being trapped in a small box, pumped with drugs and blood...

He shook his head. He had to stop. He couldn't keep thinking like this. He would just have to wait, and try to keep his cool until Sparky was brought back.

* * *

When Sparky still hadn't been returned after dinner that evening, Friend was forced to accept that he would have to go a night without knowing what had happened. The day had passed quietly, Light spending most of the time in silence, which seemed, in hindsight, rather incredible, as Light had spent much of his week here talking.

Now, as Light sat on the floor and leaned against the wall under his box, he frowned. "I think I've hacked it," he said.

"Hacked what?" Friend asked absently.

"The passcode," Light said. "I've been running algorithms all day. I think I've figured out how to get in now. At least, I can access the lowest clearance level."

Friend was now successfully interested. "Where are we?" He asked. "How do we get out? Who's holding us?"

"Hold your horses, I just got in," Light said. "Besides, I was looking for security footage, first. I'm trying to find Sparky."

Friend nodded. "Good idea," he said.

Light bit his lip, eyes still closed, brow still furrowed. After about ten minutes, he let out a breath of relief. "Found him," he said. "He's alive."

"What are they doing?" Friend asked.

Light shrugged. "Right now?" he asked. "The HAZMAT dudes are staring at him and taking notes. He's unconscious, but he doesn't seem to be injured. Man, this is trippy. It's like I'm seeing the room through the camera. It's like I AM the camera."

"Focus," Friend said. "What kind of notes are they taking?"

"I can't see that far, I don't have zoom," Light said. "They're on computer pads, but I can't access the information. Firewalls."

"Okay," Friend said. "Are there any other security cameras around that you can access? We need to get a general idea of where we are."

"Hold on, let me check," Light said. "Um... I seem to be on a research floor... The camera me, not, you know, us... Okay, there's another camera here... hallways... hallways... Oh..."

"What?" Friend asked.

"Laboratory," Light said. "They're testing some kinda weapon. I wanna see how it plays out..."

Friend sighed.

"...Haha." Light laughed at whatever outcome had occurred. "Okay, moving on. More hallways... More labs... Oh, boy, spitfire."

"What?" Friend asked in confusion.

"They're testing something," Light said. "Whatever it is, it's on fire, and boy is it mad... Just snapped the neck of the guard... Tried for the door just to be pushed back, there's more guards. They've brought a fire extinguisher... Holy!"

"What? What is it?" Friend asked.

"It's... it's a girl!" Light said. "She's... she's a girl! She was on fire, and she's still going! She totally killed that guard! Oh, man... They just took her out... tranq gun, looks like."

Light opened his eyes, looking a little foggy, his eyes a bit duller. "Whoa..." he said. "What a head rush... I feel kinda... depleted."

"You okay?" Friend asked.

"Yeah, I should be fine," Light said. "I just need to rest, probably. Maybe my battery's dead." He quirked his mouth as if it had been a joke. His eyes got bright again. "Hey!" he said, sitting up. "Maybe that's what that light is, in my chest! Maybe it's a battery."

"To power the computer in your head," Friend finished. "Dude, I don't know what they did to you, but that's pretty freaky."

"Yeah, whatever, shark-eyes," Light said, but with a small smile showing he wasn't offended. "I'm gonna grab a nap before bed. Don't sit up all night worrying about Sparky. It looked to me more like observation than any more experimentation or testing. He should be fine."

Friend was still worried, but he nodded his thanks as Light stood up and walked over to his bed. Friend went back to his own bed and stared up at the imperceptible and yet, perceptible shapes in the ceiling. He felt an anger in him that he didn't quite understand, and not just at Sparky's removal. He felt... he felt constricted somehow, and he knew that whatever had done this, to him, to Sparky, to Light, even to the girl Light had seen earlier. Whatever was being done to them was wrong, somehow, and Friend felt hopeless to help himself and his two new friends. All he could do was wait. What he was waiting for, he didn't know.

* * *

The nightmares were especially bad that night. Friend dreamed that he was back in the box, waking up as all the tubes and wires were being pulled out, leaving him crying out in pain that didn't last long, but hurt when it lasted. The lid of the box was opened and he desperately tried to climb his way out. He was surrounded by HAZMAT people, who grabbed him and dragged him to another room, a white room, throwing him inside and locking the door. He beat the door, desperately trying to get out, while the room got whiter and whiter and he got hotter and hotter. He was burning, he was dying, his blood was on fire. Through the thick glass in the door he saw the faceless mask of a HAZMAT dude, watching impassively as he burned.

Friend sat up with a yell, seeing Light standing next to him. "Hey," Light said. "It's alright. You're back."

Friend gasped and panted. "That was a bad one," he rasped.

Light nodded. "I could tell," he said. "You were screaming."

"Sorry," Friend mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Hey, no problem," Light said. "I wanted to wake up anyway. You pulled me outta one of my own, so thanks."

Friend looked at him. "Sparky back yet?" He asked.

"Nope," Light said. "But I just checked up on him like, an hour ago. He's fine."

Friend nodded. "Thanks," he said.

"No prob. Hey, I saw a few other interesting things while I was snooping around. Wanna hear some?"

"Sure," Friend said. Anything to distract him from his nightmare.

"Well, I still couldn't find a location," Light said. "But I ran into a word over and over again, it seems to be the name of the organization doing this to us."

"Lay it on me," Friend said.

"Hydra," Light stated. "I still don't know who they are, what they're about, or why on earth they're experimenting on us, but hey, at least we know what name to curse now."

"Hydra," Friend repeated. "Got it. Learn anything else?"

"Nope," Light said. "Pretty slow going, trying to hack these files. I gotta be careful, if I get caught, who knows what'll happen."

"Ooh, yeah," Friend agreed. "Don't get caught."

"So yeah, I'm trying to work slowly, I'm not taking any shortcuts," Light said. "What was your dream about?"

"Uh," Friend said. "...I was out of the box, this time."

"Good, we're making progress then," Light said.

"Bad progress," Friend "They locked me in a white room and everything got too bright, and I felt like I was burning."

Light froze. "Huh..." He said.

Friend stared. "You've had that dream too?" He demanded.

"Yeah," Light said simply. "White room, bright light, fire. Got the basics of a bad time right there. I'm surprised not all nightmares are constructed like that one. We should go into business. Nightmares Incorporated. Although, on second thought, selling bad dreams isn't exactly in high demand. I don't know, I suppose there are those freaks out there who would buy them. The kinds of people who read books about pain and that kinda thing. We'd have to be careful, though, that kinda business would definitely attract the psychos."

"You're really derailing," Friend told him.

"Sorry," Light said. "I guess I get that way when I'm like, stressed."

"Yeah..." Friend nodded. "Well, we should probably go back to bed. Don't want to miss breakfast."

"True dat," Light said, turning and walking back over to his bed. Turning over, Friend thought over his dream, and the fact that Light had had the same dream. Did this mean they both had gone through the white room?

Maybe they'd lost their memories there.

Friend frowned, he wasn't sure where that thought had come from. But it made sense. Like, perfectly. They must've had their memories wiped. In fact, it was the only thing about their life that made any sense. They were prisoners, they were experiments, and they'd had their memories wiped.

* * *

Sparky was returned to them the next day, a few hours after lunch. The door had creaked open, and Friend and Light had both stood, raising their hands when weapons were pointed at them, neither of them making a move.

Two HAZMAT dudes came in, dragging Sparky in and dropping him on the floor, and then, two more HAZMAT dudes came in, dragging another unconscious teenager in and dropping him on the floor next to Sparky.

As soon as the door shut, Friend and Light rushed over. "I'll check Sparky," Friend said. "You get the new guy to one of the free beds."

Light nodded and moved toward the new guy, who was around the same size as Light, maybe a little smaller. His black hair went down to his shoulders, and he also was wearing gray clothes.

"Ooh," Light hissed as he picked the kid up. "This dude is freezing!"

Friend looked up from where he had managed to turn Sparky over so he was at least lying on his back. "He's cold?" He asked. "That can't be good."

"Dude, he's super thin, too," Light noted. "How long before dinner?"

"Three hours, twenty-three minutes," Friend supplied.

Sparky stirred then, at the same time the new kid moaned.

"They're waking up," Light noted needlessly.

Sparky, much like he had that first day, sat up and grabbed at Friend's wrist, while from behind him, Friend heard Light let out a strangled yell. "Where am I?" The new kid's voice rasped out, in the same accent as Sparky's. "Why have you taken me here?"

"It's me," Friend told Sparky quietly, holding his wrist very still and looking Sparky in the eye.

Sparky gasped and immediately released Friend, who turned around to see what was up with Light and the new kid.

"I'm on your side," Light was saying chokingly. And he was choking because the new guy, as small as he was, seemed to be exceptionally strong, and was holding Light by the throat, in the air.

He looked confused at Light's words, but didn't let up.

Friend stood quickly and went to stand behind Light. "It's true," he said. "We all were left here like you, we have a common enemy."

Sparky also stood. "Please," he said. "Release our comrade."

The new guy seemed to weigh his options, and then, dropped Light and turned away, facing the wall.

Light coughed hoarsely. "Thanks," he said.

"You don't have to thank us," Sparky said. "We are comrades!"

"I wasn't thanking you," Light noted. "I was thanking the new guy for chilling out. I mean, like, how was he supposed to know who we are? But it's great to have you back anyway, Sparky."

"...Yeah," Friend noted, turning to Sparky. "What happened? Do you remember?"

Sparky frowned, trying to remember. "After they took me from the room," he said. "They brought me to a different room and gave me something, knocking me out. I then awoke here."

Friend sighed. "Well, at least you're alive," he said.

"Excuse me," The new guy said, staring at them all as if they were talking nonsense. "What is going on!?"

"Oh," Friend said. "Well, you want the short version or the long version?"

The new guy sat back down on the edge of his bed and waved his hand in indication for Friend to get started.

"Well," Friend said. "We all, apparently, have been imprisoned by an organization known as Hydra, and they've been experimenting on us, resulting in us all getting some... pretty unusual abilities, and then, they wipe our memories and dump us here. You're the fourth prisoner here. I was the first, and for clarity, I've been assigned the name Friend."

"Friend?" The newcomer asked, raising his eyebrows. "And I'm expected to call you that?"

"That's what I said," Light spoke up. "But I got used to it. I'm Light, by the way. I was the third."

"And I'm Sparky!" Sparky exclaimed.

The newcomer looked at Sparky with an amused half-smile before turning to Light. "I assume you were named after your eyes?" He asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Light said. "And I know they're weird. Wait till you hear the rest of it, though. We're all pretty much a freak show."

The newcomer nodded before turning to Sparky. "And what of you?" He asked. "Why were you named Sparky?"

"Because when he's excited, he sparks," Friend said. "He was charged with some really weird lightning sometime during his experimentation, and now he gathers electrical charges."

"I see," said the newcomer, turning to Friend. "And what of you? Why was your name chosen?"

"Because Sparky doesn't know how to pick a good name," Light spoke up. "And they chose Friend's before I got here."

"Oh, so it was your choice," The newcomer said, again turning an amused half-smile to Sparky. "You do seem to be the type."

"The type of what?" Sparky asked.

"The type to be silly and sentimental," the newcomer clarified.

"Yeah, okay, so, some ground rules," Light started. "One: Your bed is your stuff, and my bed is my stuff. No touching my stuff."

The newcomer looked around the room. "Possessions are still held in value in this place?" He asked.

"Hey, man, stuff is stuff," Light said. "The less you have, the more you care for it. My blanket, my pillow, my food bowl. I don't want your germs."

"On that note," Friend said. "See those boxes on the wall over there?"

"Yes," the newcomer said, in a tone that meant 'obviously.'

"Well, those boxes open three times a day, for breakfast, lunch and dinner," Friend continued. "They stay open for half an hour, and it's a big mess if you forget to put your bowl back. That's the second ground rule, put your bowl back. And, um... well, really that's it as far as rules go. There's not much here, so-"

Light suddenly jumped up. "Dude," he said, eyes wide. "You're turning blue!"

Everyone turned to the newcomer, who was indeed beginning to turn blue. "Am I?" He asked in surprise.

"Yeah, you are," Light said. "And, whoa. Your eyes just turned orange. How are you doing that?"

"I don't know," the newcomer said. "I don't feel any different... Although, it does feel colder in here..."

Reaching out, Friend touched his hand, now blue. HIssing, he pulled it back. "Your hand is like ice!" He exclaimed, examining his finger. It had been so cold it burned him.

"Man, talk about chilling out," Light said. "Are you like, dying or something? Is the circulation cut off somehow? Can you breathe? Are you going numb?"

"Light, calm down," Friend said.

"I'm not numb," the newcomer said. "And I can breathe just fine. I don't feel like I'm dying..." They could see the breath as he talked, like when a person talks during the winter time.

"Must be part of whatever they did to you," Friend decided. "Kinda like my sight, Sparky's sparks, and Light's computer."

"Computer?" The newcomer asked.

"Yeah, I got one in my head," Light said. "I think it runs on my battery."

The newcomer looked confused, but shook his head slightly, looking down at his blue hands. "So," he said. "What do you plan on calling me?"

Friend, Light and Sparky looked at each other.

"I hadn't thought about it," Friend said. "What would you like to be called?"

The newcomer shrugged. "It matters little," he said. "As long as it is not sentimental or likened to that of a canine."

Light laughed. "Alright, you're cool," he said.

"In more ways than one," Friend noted. "Well, Light and Sparky both relate to their abilities somehow. Maybe we could do something about the cold?"

"What, you mean like Jack Frost?" Light said. "No way. That's stupid."

"I agree," Sparky said. "How about... Frost Giant?"

Friend and Light looked at him. "Sparky, stop suggesting things," Light said. "That doesn't even make any sense, he's not a giant. Seriously."

"How about we just call him Frost?" Friend suggested.

Everyone thought on this.

"It's not bad," Light finally said. "But I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Well," the newcomer said. "How about Chill?"

"Perfect!" Light said, smiling at the newcomer. "How'd you think that up?"

"It was simple," the newcomer said. "Earlier, you mentioned my "chilling out" twice, and you called me cool. It follows that I would be called Chill, and it does send a tingle down your spine, does it not?"

"Yeah, dude, you're so Chill," Light said. "It fits you. You seem the mysterious, dark icy type. Like you Shoot to Chill."

"I think Frost would have suited better," Sparky said. "But, if Chill is more to your tastes, that is up to you." He smiled. "After all, you're the one who has to live with it. It should be something you prefer."

"Thank you," Chill said, a slight sarcastic tone to his voice. "You're too kind."

Sparky smiled wider while Friend and Light bit back their laughs. Chill had somehow fit right in, despite the general air he gave off of being edgy and unapproachable. It was like he fit together with them. Like a team.


	4. Surprise

_Author's Notes: Whoa, sorry I'm late everyone! I've been having an extremely busy week, and I plumb forgot about this. I just remembered now. So, here's your chapter, four days late. Enjoy!_

* * *

A week later, Friend slowly came out of a dreamless sleep, hearing, as if in the back of his head, whispers and movement, periodically interrupted with a "shh" or a "shut up!"

Finally awake enough to wonder, Friend rolled over and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, he's awake," he heard Light whisper. "Ready? On three. One... two... three."

Now thoroughly curious, Friend opened his eyes just to be hit in the face with two pillows.

"What the-" he started.

"SURPRISE!" Sparky yelled, hitting him again.

"Dude," Friend said, pushing him and Light away and standing up. "What on earth are you doing!?"

"It's called a rude awakening," Chill called from across the room where he was sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall, watching them with amusement. "You have Light to thank for it."

"Light?" Friend asked, turning to Light, who grinned.

"Happy birthday," he stated.

"...What?" Friend asked.

"Happy birthday," Light repeated. "It's been a month now since you first woke up. At least, it's been thirty-one days, unless you lied to us about your initial twelve. So, it's your birthday."

Friend stared. "Are you serious!?" he demanded. "You woke me up and hit me with a pillow just to tell me I've been here for a month!?"

"Come on, man, don't be such a downer," Light said. "It was getting boring around here. I wanted to mix things up a bit. And what better way to raise the excitement level than to throw a birthday party? Check it out, I went all out with the decorations."

Friend looked around, all the blankets from the beds (except for his, of course) had been somehow hung across the windows in graceful arcing patterns, like banners, with another hung across the door, and the pillows had been pinned up over each blanket, almost like balloons.

"How on earth...?" Friend asked.

"Don't ask," Light told him. "Just know that it took me forever to get 'em to stick. Also, in honor of your birthday, I figured out how to hack into the kitchen and work the release in the food dispenser." Going over to the window, Light waited as the first four opened, the bowls filled with food. "Extra rations, baby!" Light said happily, pulling his and Friend's bowls out and handing Friend's to him.

Friend looked down at the food. "Really?" He asked.

"Yep," Light said. "I actually figured it out a couple days ago, but don't get to used to it. If I do it too often, someone could get wise. This is only for special occasions, like birthdays."

"You do realize birthdays are supposed to be yearly, not monthly?" Friend asked, swiping up a bit of the food anyway.

"Yeah, well, I don't feel like the kinda guy to stick to stereotypes," Light said with a shrug. "Just enjoy it while you can."

"So then," Chill said. "Are you planning on repeating this performance for Sparky in twelve days?"

Sparky beamed at the idea, and Light laughed. "I wouldn't miss it," he said. "Although we might have to change our strategy, now that he'll be expecting the wake-up call."

"I've got a few ideas," Chill said. "We'll have to confer together later."

"Deal," Light said. "I'll schedule an appointment and get back to you on that."

Friend looked up at the three of them, Light smiling and laughing, Chill smirking mischievously, his eyes bright with plans, and Sparky grinning at the both of them, obviously excited at the prospect of a surprise of his own, and Friend suddenly had to blink back tears.

He hid them well, he saw that none of them had noticed, and he smiled down at his empty bowl, feeling... very happy now. He felt... a little less constricted, like he was a bit less trapped, like he was finally breathing easy. Whatever their situation, no matter how strange and wrong it was, he had three friends, he had three brothers, to share it with.

* * *

The next drop-off happened three days after the birthday party. The door opened like usual, and two HAZMAT dudes brought in another teenager, this one a girl. The four teens in the room didn't even stand up until the HAZMAT dudes left, knowing that all that would happen was they would have weapons pointed at them.

After the door slammed shut, though, they all stood and walked toward the door.

"Whoa," Light said. "It's the girl I saw through the camera."

"The one who was on fire?" Friend asked, bending down and picking the girl up. She was fairly light, and she was shorter than all of them.

"Yeah," Light said. "You can tell, too, look at her skin."

Her skin did look rather burnt, really. Parts of it were pale, but mostly her face was mottled, varying in shades of pink. Her arms were burnt as well, and Friend felt more mad looking at them than he'd felt in awhile.

Setting her down on one of the free beds, they all stood back, giving her some space. As they waited, Friend tilted his head, looking at the girl. Her hair, which was bright, bright red, such a perfect shade of red that it looked as unnatural as Light's white hair, was straight and tangled, splayed out on the gray pillow. It looked a bit like blood, and Friend found himself frowning, remembering his recurring nightmare. There was a bit of hair in the girl's face, and without thinking, Friend reached out to brush it away.

The girl's eyes shot open at the slight touch, and she shot up, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward, somersaulting over him and twisting in midair, landed behind him easily, twisting his arm behind his back and holding it there.

She said something in another language, and in front of him, Light, Sparky and Chill were all staring in shock.

The girl tried again, in a different language. Then a third. Then, she spoke in French, which, Friend was surprised to realize he understood.

"State your name and purpose," she was saying.

"Uh, Friend," he said, repeating back in French. "My name is Friend. I am... Helping."

The girl paused.

"Whoa," Light said. "Friend, you speak French?"

"Apparently so," Friend said.

The girl released him then, and Friend turned to her, only to see that she was feeling the edges of the door.

"There's no escape," he said in French.

"I speak English," the girl said, without even an accent. "I ought to have tried that first. It has become almost universally spoken, after all."

"...Oh," Friend said. "Well then. Um, there's no escape. We're all prisoners here."

"There is always an escape," the girl said. "You did not look hard enough."

"Yeah, well, we're still looking," Light said. "But really, the front door? You think we didn't try that? Give us some credit, here."

The girl paused, then turned around, looking at them with eyes as red as her hair. "Tell me the situation," she demanded.

"Okay, well then," Friend said. "We're all held here by an organization known as Hydra, they've been experimenting on us, resulting in some pretty strange side affects, and then wiping our memories and dumping us here. You're the fifth one to get brought here. My name's Friend, the big blonde guy is Sparky, the dude with glow-in-the-dark eyes is Light, and the quiet mysterious one is Chill."

"...I see," the girl said. "So we are all held here. How do they feed us? I assume that is the purpose for the windows on the far wall?"

"You assume correctly," Light said. "Three square meals a day."

The girl nodded, then turned away from them, her arms folded.

The four boys all looked at each other.

"So..." Light said. "You need a name."

"Why?" The girl said. "I don't see how it would matter."

"Of course it matters!" Sparky exclaimed. "How will we know by what to address you without a name?"

"Maybe you just shouldn't address me," she said.

"Yeah, that's not gonna work in these close quarters," Light said. "We've all got a name here. You can either choose one yourself, or I'll assign one for you."

The girl turned, staring at him. "You would assign one for me without my consent?" She asked.

"I never wait for consent," Light snarked. "Consent is for people who can't make up their mind."

"Perhaps it is for people who wish to keep their head to store their mind in," the girl shot back.

"Okay, did you seriously just threaten to rip my head off if I picked a name for you?" Light said. "Because that's a little extreme, though I don't doubt you could do it. What do you feel about Spitfire?"

"What?" The girl demanded.

"For a name," Light said. "See, I hacked into some security cameras awhile back, and saw the HAZMAT dudes trying to take you down. You were pretty ninja back there, and you were on fire. You totally took down, like three HAZMAT dudes before I had to pull out."

"You were... spying on me?" The girl asked.

"Naw," Light said. "I was trying to spy on Hydra. I just happened on some security footage of you as I snooped."

The girl nodded. "I do not like that name," she said. "Too demeaning. Try again."

"How about Red?" Light said. "Like Red Riding Hood."

"Red Riding Hood?" The girl asked. "Do you insinuate I would sell out my grandmother to a hungry wolf in exchange for flowers?"

"Okay, that's not the version I know," Light said. "I mean the Red Riding Hood who goes all spy and ninja-beats the wolf while delivering secret information to her thrill-seeking grandmother."

The girl stared.

"It does seem to fit," Chill spoke up. "What with your current appearance."

The girl looked down at herself. "Strange," she said. "You say we were experimented on?"

"Aye," Sparky said. "And we all display strange affects of our time before coming here."

The girl considered this. "...I am alright with Red," she said.

"Cool, so it's settled," Light said. "I'm Light, Sparky's Sparky, Chill's Chill, Friend's Friend, and you're Red. Friend, want to go through the ground rules?"

As Friend repeated the rules for Red, he watched Light went over to his bed and laid down, closing his eyes, going back to his hacking. Friend had a bad feeling about the hacking. He knew it had to be done, right now it was their best hope for learning new things about their situation, as well as their best hope for escape. But he didn't have to like it. He just... had a bad feeling, one that he hoped was just him being a worrier.

Shaking the thoughts away, he finished with the rules and watched Red continue with her inspection of the room. Five, there were five of them now. There was room for three more. He found himself wondering who the other three would be, and when they would show.

He also wondered what would be done with them once they were all here.


	5. The Girl On Fire

_Author's note: For the record, I don't like the Hunger Games. The title just fit._

* * *

When Light announced, six days later, that he had figured out where the Hydra base was located, he grabbed the attention of all there.

"Where?" Red asked, looking up from her food.

"We, my friend, are in Austria," Light said proudly. "Underneath Vienna itself, in a secret Hydra base known simply as 3. Or, in German, drei."

"3?" Friend repeated. "Why do they call it 3?"

"I don't know," Light said with a shrug. "The naming department was as bad as Sparky?"

"We are under Vienna?" Chill asked. "Interesting. Good work, Light."

"Thanks," Light said. "Also, I've been thinking, and there's one part of this room I haven't had a chance to psychoanalyze yet."

"Seriously?" Friend said. "Dude, what's left to look at? You've been here for what, seventeen days?"

"The light," Light said, pointing up at the lightbulb.

Everyone glanced up.

"I can tell you all about it right now," Friend said. "It's a 100 watt bulb, without a switch. It's left on night and day."

"I'm talking about the other side of it," Light said, walking over to his bed and pulling the blanket off, ripping part of it. "Lightbulbs screw in somewhere, and where they're screwed in, you find cool toys. So, what I need from you guys is this: Sparky, stand directly under the lightbulb, and I'm gonna climb on top of him and take a look at the thing."

"Won't it be hot?" Chill pointed out.

"Indeed, it will be," Light said. "Which is why I just tore out this strip of my blanket." Tearing the strip into two pieces, Light wrapped his hands tightly, though he left his fingers partially exposed. "There," he said. "That should help. These look totally cool, though. I think I'll keep 'em."

Walking over to Sparky, Light turned to Chill. "Give me a boost?" He asked.

"Why not just have me do it?" Red asked. "I could get up there easily."

"I thought of that," Light said. "Actually, it was because of your increase in ninja-ness that made me realize this was even possible. However, I need to be able to examine the inner workings of the light myself, and I can't do that through your eyes. Also, once I take the bulb out, it'll be pitch black in here, but fortunately for me, I've got flashlights built into my face."

Red nodded. "Makes sense," she said.

"Great, so, Chill?" Light asked. Stepping forward, Chill cupped his hands, and gave Light a boost to where he stood on Sparky's shoulders. Carefully, using the gloved parts of his hands, Light unscrewed the lightbulb, and the room was plunged into darkness, a soft blue light casting strange shadows in the steel room.

Friend chuckled. "Hey, Light," he said. "Guess what?"

"What's that?" Light asked absently.

"Your hair glows, too," Friend informed him.

"Really?" Light asked with a slight laugh, his eyes appearing even brighter than usual in the darkness. It was true, his white hair glowed somewhat, almost like it was backlit. In fact, even his pale skin seemed a little brighter than that of everyone else. The difference was slight, only Friend would have noticed. But it was true.

"Ugh," Light said. "Somebody else grab a blanket and take this bulb from me. I need both hands for this job."

Someone took the bulb, and Light reached up, turning his flashlight eyes to the empty socket where the bulb had been. Working in silence, he was only up for ten minutes before declaring he had what he needed, and reaching down for the bulb. Screwing it back in, the room was flooded with the dim light again, and Light jumped down, one hand filled with a few wires and a couple bits of metal.

"How'd you get it to work, if you took that stuff out?" Friend wondered.

"Meh, re-wiring the system was easy," Light said with a shrug. "My options are limited with this stuff, but I've got a couple ideas of what to use it for."

Going back to his bed, he started playing with the wires and the metal, while everyone else watched for a bit before growing bored and returning to their own devices. Red had turned into rather a novelty, as she had started sparring with Friend and teaching yoga to Sparky. Somehow, this had turned into a daily exercise, usually involving everyone, unless Light wanted to work more on hacking. Everyone else, however, looked forward to Red's lessons each day, and indeed, they found that the more active they were each day, the more tired they were at night, and the more tired they were, the less chance they had of having nightmares.

* * *

And so life continued on for the five prisoners of the steel room, which they now had dubbed "Caravan," in reference to their comparability with a circus freak-show. It had been Friend to make that comparison, one day when, during yoga, Red had proven herself to be a contortionist by bending so far back she bent into a circle and began rolling around.

Everyone had stopped to watch, except Sparky, who declared he wanted to try, and had proceeded to hurt himself, looking so ridiculous as he did so that everyone, Red included, had burst into laughter. This had continued when Sparky declared himself to be stuck, and with a sigh and more laughter, Chill had attempted to free him from the headlock he had miraculously put himself in.

Sparky's birthday came and went; they had surprised him by "forgetting" his birthday, only to attack him with pillows when his back was turned, much to his surprise and amusement. And then, four days later, Light spent his entire birthday fidgeting anxiously, watching everyone in paranoia and bemoaning the fact that he had even thought the idea up at all. Finally, the day was over and he was able to relax- Until they woke him up with a pillow fight the next day, stating that they'd decided to celebrate a day late to catch him off his guard. He refused to work second rations for himself, however. Just went back to hacking and working on... whatever he was working on.

* * *

Two days after Light's party, Red was watching him work with the light fixture pieces. When he wasn't working on them, Light kept them under his mattress in case HAZMAT dudes showed up.

He was trying to glue two pieces together using rations, which, after some experiments, he discovered hardened after a few hours. He seemed to be having trouble, and he frowned down at the uncooperative gray paste in annoyance.

"What are you making?" Red asked.

"A mistake," Light answered.

"I meant what are you aiming to accomplish with your device?" Red repeated.

"Well, quick question, what do you think it looks like?" Light asked, holding it up to her.

Red examined it. "It looks a bit like a lockpick," she decided. "A broken lockpick."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too," Light said with a sigh. "And, unfortunately, our door has no lock. But without the proper tools, I can't get anything to work right. Glue isn't even what I need! I have to solder these two pieces together, but I can't!"

Red thought this over. "I believe I can help," she said. "Sparky, I need your assistance."

Sparky looked over from where he and Friend had been talking, and stood. "Yes, Red?" He asked. "What do you need?"

"Come stand under the lightbulb," Red said.

"Are you sure?" Light asked. "Because I thought of that, too, and in order to get the metal hot enough to meld, you would have to stand under that bulb for like two days."

"I do not intend to hold the metal under the lightbulb," Red said.

"Well, we can't bring the lightbulb down here," Light noted. "It would cool off two fast."

"Just trust me," Red said, climbing up onto Sparky's shoulders. Reaching up, she firmly grasped the lightbulb with her bare hand, everyone gasping.

"Red, you'll burn yourself," Friend exclaimed.

"Actually, I'm fine," Red said, removing her hand and showing it to everyone. It was still a bit mottled in parts, but nothing new. She hadn't even been burnt.

"What..." Light began, frowning. "How did-?"

"You called me Spitfire," Red said. "You remembered I was burnt. That made me think. Obviously, I was scarred by fire. But... Well, Sparky was struck with lightning, and gained control over the element. Maybe I could do the same with fire."

"So you decide to place your whole hand on the lightbulb!?" Chill exclaimed. "Without even testing your theory? What if you were wrong!?"

"Well, I'm not stupid," Red said, putting her hand back on the bulb. "I tested it. When you first released the bulb, Light, you needed someone else to hold it."

"Yeah, but I said to grab a blanket," Light said. "I made sure to specify."

"I had to test my theory," Red said. "When I touched the bulb and felt no pain, I knew I could at least tolerate heat."

Everyone stared.

"...Okay," Friend said finally. "Now what are you doing?"

"I can't seem to make fire by myself," Red said. "I'm trying to absorb enough heat to snap some life into it."

"You're crazy," Light informed her.

"Look who's talking," Red shot back. "Mr. Computer-in-my-head."

"Hey, don't bring Winston into this!" Light said.

Red paused. "...What?" She said.

"I figured it needed a name," Light said. "Something for me to call it."

"It isn't... alive, is it?" Sparky asked.

"No," Light said. "It's just a normal computer. But if you name something, it lasts longer."

"I don't think it works that way," Friend noted, but Light continued, ignoring him.

"I toyed around with Mitchell as a name for awhile," he said. "But it didn't seem the Mitchell type. Then I thought, Leroy, and I almost chose it, but then it hit me: Simon!"

"But I thought you called it Winston," Chill noted with a slight smile.

"Yeah, see, I changed my mind a little bit later," Light said. "Don't question my process."

"See?" Red noted. "Crazy."

Snapping her fingers then, all other conversation was forgotten as there was a visible spark.

"It worked!" Sparky exclaimed, still holding Red up.

"It almost worked," Chill corrected.

"But that means it will work," Red said, a new determination in her eyes as she grabbed onto the bulb again.

"That's seriously awesome," Light noted. "I knew you were a spitfire!"

"Call me that again and you might lose Winston," Red said conversationally.

Light laughed. "...Wait, you were serious?"

Without answering, Red snapped her fingers again, this time, managing to bring into life a very small lick of flame, like on a candle.

Carefully jumping down so as not to put the flame out, Red walked over to Light. "Take off one of your gloves."

Light unwrapped the torn piece of blanket, seeing what Red intended to do. Holding it out to her, she held her finger to it, setting it on fire.

Walking over to his bed, Light quickly upturned the mattress, sending it to the floor along with the blanket and pillow, tossing the burning piece of fabric onto the metal board. "Can you make it hotter?" He asked Red.

"I don't know, let me see," Red said, leaning forward and blowing into it softly. The flame grew slightly bigger. Looking around with a small smile, Red blew harder, and the pale blue flames spurted into the air in with a whoosh.

"Whoa," Light exclaimed, jumping back. Friend also took a step back, while Sparky laughed and Chill turned from blue to pale with the sudden heat (He'd been fluctuating off and on since his very first change, the others dubbing it radiation fever) and Red gave a proud half-smile at her accomplishment.

"...Cool," Light said, going and getting the device he was trying to build. "Hey Red, how'd you like to be my heat-resistant hands in this venture?"

Handing the two pieces of metal to Red, Light directed her as she held them into the fire, turning them so they would fuse as evenly as possible. It was slow going, but Red proved to be patient, and eventually, handed the now-one piece of metal to Light with a smile.

"Thanks, Red," Light said, patting her shoulder. "Now, uh, what are the chances of you putting this fire out? I don't envision this metal bed'll be very kind to me tonight if I don't give it a chance to cool down."

Red frowned at the fire and waved her arm, looking a mixture of worried and baffled.

"I..." she said. "I don't think I can put it out."

"Are you serious!?" Light asked, eyes wide.

"No," Red said, putting her hand in the fire and absorbing the flames, which withdrew into her hand in a swirling pattern, as if they were being sucked into a whirlpool of fire. "I was just joking."

Light paused, then laughed. "That was you getting even with me for the whole Spitfire thing, wasn't it?"

Red smirked and walked across the room to where the boxes had just opened, revealing dinner.

"...Wasn't it?" Light called after her before turning back to his bed, which was bright orange in the middle. He sighed. "Oh well," he said. "At least I got these two pieces melded. Progress for the day: Good enough. Make a log, Winston."


	6. Something Someone Somewhere Somehow

_Author's note: Sorry I'm late guys, I forgot this yesterday. You know how things are. Bleh. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

Although Chill insisted he didn't need a birthday party, the others were insistent upon celebrating somehow, and now, the day before the event, they were busy trying to plan in whispered conversations while Chill attempted to figure out their plans as they made them. Light, when he wasn't helping with the planning, was busy working on his project, while Red was balanced on one foot on the edge of her bed, doing different yoga poses and aiming for the most impossible position she could do, simply to test her own flexibility.

This was how they were found when the door burst open, and the room was once again flooded with HAZMAT dudes.

Remembering what had happened last time the HAZMAT dudes came in like this, Friend stood and gasped, while in the corner of his perfect eyes, he saw Red startle out of her position and stand in surprise on the edge of her bed, while Light jumped, quickly shoving his project under his pillow. Sparky unwittingly saved Light's project from notice as he gasped loudly in shock, accidentally sending sparks of electricity towards Chill, who let out a small yell at the electric shock.

Sparky tensed as the HAZMAT dudes ran over in his direction, but everything changed when they ran past him, grabbing Friend by the arms.

"Hey!" Sparky yelled. "Stop!"

"No," Friend heard Chill say quietly. Looking over, he saw Chill's blue hand on Sparky's arm, not holding him back, but keeping him from rushing over. Sparky's hands were clenched as he watched in anger.

And then- He was out.

The door shut behind him, and Friend looked around, wonder rising within him even through the fear at what was going to happen. He was out of the Caravan! His world wasn't quite so small after all. He was dragged through several bright hallways and past several doors. Remembering what Sparky had said about being drugged after leaving the Caravan, Friend wondered why he wasn't, but decided to use his time as wisely as he could.

As he passed through another hallway, he glanced up, his eyes catching a camera on the other end of the hall. The idea that Light might be watching made him almost laugh, he bit it back just in time but allowed a flash of a smile as he looked directly into the camera.

Finally, he was taken into a room, which he took in at a glance. Security camera in one corner of the room, one wall made of glass, with scientists standing behind it, scrutinizing him impassively as they typed away at computers or wrote notes down on paper. There was a coffin-like box in the room, with several tubes and wires going into it, and Friend felt his blood run cold, but to his relief, the HAZMAT dudes carried him past the box. The other option wasn't much better, though, as they strapped him down to a table with a bright light overhead. Friend felt panicked as one of the HAZMAT dudes placed an oxygen mask over his face. He had a feeling that whatever would be coming through the mask wasn't oxygen, even as in the back of his head, he realized this was what Light had complained about most often in his nightmares. Did this mean they intended to do some sort of operation!? The thought frightened him.

As one of the HAZMAT dudes picked up a scalpel, he resigned to his fate; he was right.

Carefully, the Hazmat dude held the scalpel over Friend's arm, and Friend braced himself, closing his eyes. He felt the cut, it went slow and deep. He felt his arm start to bleed, the warm liquid running down his arm. The pain was bad, and Friend wondered for a moment why they hadn't made use of the oxygen mask yet- And then the pain began to dull. He opened his eyes. It was already fading? The pain shouldn't already be fading. Turning his head with some difficulty, he managed to use his perfect eyes to take a look at his arm, which was red with blood- but the cut was already scabbing over. What!?

"Subject Five also appears to possess healing abilities," a voice said, sounding strange and muffled from whichever HAZMAT dude had said it. "The transfer is successful. Begin observation of Five. Transfer Subject Three to final experimentation."

Friend pondered these words for a second, and then there was a hiss, the oxygen mask had been turned on. He tried to stay awake as long as he could, but there was no fighting it. He fell asleep.

* * *

"He's waking up. Get back, Sparky, before you suffocate him."

Hearing Light's voice over him, Friend knew where he was before even opening his eyes. When he did open them, he saw Sparky grin in relief. "FRIEND," he boomed. "YOU ARE ALRIGHT!"

"...Thanks for the report, Sparky," Friend said, unable to help a small smile himself as he sat up. Everyone had been gathered around him, now they all slowly returned to the wall; they were eating. It must've been mealtime.

Friend stood too, feeling suddenly ravenous at the thought of food. "How long was I gone?" he asked.

"Three days," Light said, with a sidelong glance at him. "I was watching. They didn't feed you or anything, so I know you're hungry. But it's best you don't eat too much at once, so you'll have to wait a couple hours before you get seconds."

Friend shrugged. "Oh well," he said with a shrug. Then he noticed, there was one more open box than there had been when he left. Looking around, he saw another boy sitting quietly on the bed in the far corner, with brown hair and pale skin. He was a little bigger than Chil, and a little smaller than Friend himself. Friend nodded over to where he was sitting. "Hey," he said to Light. "Who's the new kid?"

Light frowned absently and looked around the room before spotting the kid. "Oh yeah," he said. "That's Reg. He showed up on Chill's birthday."

"I missed it," Friend noted disappointedly.

"It matters not," Chill spoke up.

"So why's his name Reg?" Friend asked, ignoring Chill.

"Because as far as we can see, the dude's totally normal," Light said. "Reg stands for Regular Guy."

"...Huh." Friend nodded.

"You know, I can hear you," Reg said.

"I know," Light said. "But you weren't volunteering any information. You were just sitting there like a sack of wet potatoes."

"Wet potatoes?" Reg asked in annoyance.

"Whatever," Light said instead of answering. Then he looked at Friend with his face carefully blank. "So, uh, I kinda made a few discoveries, mainly about Reg, but I figure it was probably done to us, too."

"...What'd'you mean?" Friend asked.

"Well, when I was watching the cameras to keep an eye on you," Light said. "They took you to a room and… strapped you to a table, and, uh, dude, you totally have healing powers, by the way."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out," Friend said.

"Anyway," Light continued. "After they knocked you out, they went over to this box and put it on some kind of hoverplatform, and moved it down the hall. They didn't seem to be doing anything else to you, so I kept my eye on the box. They dumped the box in a room with no cameras, and then got Reg out a few hours later. Then they took him to another room, and I could see that one. They like, flooded the room with some kind of weird light, and I think, judging by the info they were putting into the computers, that they erased his memory."

Friend nodded once, remembering that he and Light had both dreamed of this room. "So you think they tampered with our memories?"

"Yeah, which is kind of good news," Light said. "I mean, think about it. Obviously, they didn't care enough to erase your memories, or Sparky's, after further experimentation. That means that we had to have known something before, something they didn't want us remembering. That means we _were_ someone before, we're not, like, genetically engineered lab rats or something. So, if we're not part of Hydra, and we're not genetically engineered, we had to have come from somewhere. If we came from somewhere, we've gotta be missed. So somehow, someone's gotta be trying to find us."

Friend blinked. "Yeah," he agreed. "I guess that makes sense."

Light huffed and turned away. "Come on," he said. "Don't tell me you didn't think of it either! Are you all thick or something?"

Friend smiled, knowing that this was just Light being Light. "Whatever," he said. "We don't have computers in our heads. We can't think as fast."

"Got that right," Light muttered. "Anyway, go eat. And then go make friends with Reg. I swear, the guy's not receptive to anyone."

"Though especially not to Light," Red noted from across the room. "He's just fine with me."

"And I," Sparky said. "But Chill has not tried."

Chill shrugged. "Neither has he," he noted. "We are perfectly content with our mutual lack of effort."

"I'm just fine with you," Reg said to Light exasperatedly.

"Nope, don't try to apologize," Light said. "You know what you did. We don't need to get into details."

"I don't," Reg protested. "You just got mad for no reason and refused to speak to me!"

"What did he do?" Friend asked.

"Oh, nothing," Light insisted airily.

"Unfortunately, that is the truth," Chill said. "I could see no harm in Reg's statement myself."

"What'd'you say?" Friend asked Reg.

"I only said that we might want to be careful with the hacking," Reg said. "From what I understand, it's actually pretty dangerous and I didn't think we should be taking unnessecery risks. But he got mad and said that he and Winston had this covered, but he wouldn't tell me who Winston was and called me stupid for not figuring it out myself."

"Winston wouldn't want you to know!" Light said, pointing at Reg, who rolled his eyes.

"Winston is what he named the computer in his head," Friend said.

"Aw," Light whined. "Friend, you ruined the game!"

"Yes I did," Friend said. "Obviously, Reg didn't want to play it."

"It… it was a game?" Reg asked hopelessly.

"Totally," Red said. "He plays games with people he likes. Or, well, us. It's his thing."

"And you failed miserably," Light said. "Besides, I know how to be careful. I'm not some two-bit hacker, I know internet safety."

"Okay, I said I believed you," Reg said. "I don't know why you won't let it go."

"Because you insinuated I would get caught," Light said airily. "But whatever. Bygones. It's over. I just don't like you."

"What?" Reg said. "Why!?"

"Dude, seriously?" Light asked, turning to Reg and frowning. "I'm. Teasing. You. It's a game. Stop taking everything so seriously."

Reg threw his arms in the air and sighed dramatically. "I just don't get it," he said.

"Shocker." Light muttered.

Friend chuckled. It was good to be back.

* * *

"I've finished," Light announced the next morning, holding up his project in triumph.

Everyone looked at him. "Neat," Reg said impassively.

"I also think it is neat," Sparky agreed with a smile.

"What is it?" Red asked.

Light looked around at everyone, who all looked blankly back. "Seriously?" he asked. "Nobody knows what this is? It's obvious!"

"Well, educate us then," Chill spoke up.

Light frowned. "It's a satellite receiver," he said. "Now I can surf the 'net."

"...Neat," Reg said again.

"Really?" Friend asked. "What are you looking for?"

"Right now, nothing," LIght said. "Without any idea who we are, where we are, or why we're even being held here, I don't know who I'm supposed to contact for help. But I'm still going through some of Hydra's files, I'm hoping to find a threat list somewhere, and contact one of their enemies."

"Why one of their enemies? Sparky asked.

"Because," Chill spoke up. "Obviously, we are prisoners here. A common enemy unites the oldest of foes, if we contact an enemy of Hydra, they will be likely to assist us."

"Oh," Sparky said. "That does seem like a good plan."

"You think?" Chill said with a slight roll of his eyes.

"So, a name, then," Light said.

"What?" Red asked.

"Well, I named Winston," Light explained. "Now I need to name the satellite. I'm thinking Mahavir. Because he picks up signals."

Everyone stared. "...Okay, that time, I didn't get it either," Friend told him.

Light sighed. "Oh, this generation," he said. "Everybody go away and leave me alone. I need to focus." Turning away from them, he walked over to his bed and laid down, closing his eyes.

Everyone looked at each other and turned back to whatever they had been doing before the interruption, feeling a little bit more hopeful. They had a chance. They might be rescued, and soon.


	7. The Last Two

_Author's note: Again, sorry I'm a day late. lol, I've never been good with deadlines. This note isn't just to lament my forgetfulness, however. We have now reached the last chapter I had prewritten when I started posting this story. See, I had the inspiration for this story one week when I was dogsitting near the beginning of winter, and whenever I was at their house watching their dog, I would get like, amazing inspiration, and I would find myself writing easily and quickly. I wrote a chapter a day every day for that week. Then I went home, and I haven't written a chapter since. However, I'm finally getting back into fanfic, so I'll try my hardest to get to work on this and continue getting weekly chapters up for you all. Who knows? Maybe actually working within a deadline will help me to learn to... well, actually work within a deadline. SO EVERYBODY IF I DON'T POST WEEKLY, FLOOD MY MESSAGES WITH A BUNCH OF REMINDERS TO WRITE YOU A CHAPTER! Thank you, and enjoy. :)_

_P.S. There was also a lot of confusion as to who Reg is. Well, he's not Bruce, as will be shown in this chappy. He's Cap. Just letting you all know._

* * *

There were now six people living in the Caravan. But there were eight beds, and eight boxes. This had inspired quite a bit of discussion, not only of who might fill those two spots, but what might happen when they were filled.

"They're obviously not using us for anything," Light had stated. "This base is huge, with all sorts of opportunities for work, experimentation, or even manual labor. We're not even being observed. We're simply contained."

If they were useless, why would Hydra keep them around? As it was, they were simply a waste of food, energy (if you could count a single light-bulb as energy) and space. There was a growing worry in the back of everyone's mind, unspoken except by Light, over this thought. Would they be killed? Would they be left to starve when the food inevitably ran out? Would they be brought out to work or to be tortured? The possibilities were endless, but all unpleasant. It was, after all, unlikely that they would ever be simply released. Even though Hydra didn't know about Light's hacking, and therefore, their amount of knowledge, only a fool would let them loose now. Especially given the powers that Hydra did know about.

And so, as the days passed, they continuously glanced at the two empty beds, and wondered…

* * *

"So dude," Light said one afternoon, laying on his bed with his eyes closed.

"Yes?" Chill prompted when Light didn't continue.

"...There's this thing," Light said. "Called YouTube."

Silence.

"And?" Chill asked.

"...It's nuts." Light stated. "Especially this thing, called Catbug-"

The door opened, two HAZMAT dudes came in, dropping a rather small teenager. Everyone looked at him in interest, before four more HAZMAT dudes came in, dragging something that was far more interesting. After dropping him (it?) on the floor, they left, locking the door.

"Okay," Friend said. "I don't know what they did to that guy, but wow."

The dude was green. Like, really, he was just… green. He looked to be maybe about sixteen, but he was muscley. Even more muscle-bound than Sparky, and that was saying something. He was also super tall, seven feet at least.

"Sparky, help me try to get him to one of the beds," Friend said. "Reg, can you get the other one?"

"Sure," Reg said, lifting the other kid easily. He was smaller than even Red, it was concerning. In facial expression, he appeared to be around sixteen as well. He had curly brown hair, but it was kind of long and tangled.

"He weighs almost nothing," Reg stated in alarm, putting him on one of the beds.

"I wish I could say the same for him," Friend grunted, as he and Sparky struggled with the green guy. "This guy must weigh three hundred pounds!"

Reg stepped over to help, and as he strained, Light, Chill and Red gaped. Everyone paused when they noticed.

"What?" Friend asked.

"Um…" Light said. "I… I don't know what to say."

"It appears Reg has been holding out on us," Chill stated. "He just gained almost twenty pounds of muscle."

Reg looked down at himself in surprise.

Friend got a weird look on his face. "You're kidding," he said.

"No, he just got buff," Red said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Friend said. "But I've been trying to carry this guy all the way across the room, and now he's super buff!? Come over here and take this dead weight off me!"

Reg walked over quickly and lifted the head of the green guy, just as both he and the small one began to stir.

"Timber," Light muttered.

"AGGH!" The green guy growled. "Down! Let down!"

"Okay, alright, just hold still," Sparky groaned under the suddenly-moving heavy pressure. Together, he and Reg dropped him hard, unable to do it slowly.

The green guy jumped up and took a swing at the nearest target, which happened to be Red, who dodged it easily without a thought.

Undeterred, the green guy roared and swung behind him, catching Sparky with his backhand and sending him flying toward the wall. Sparky landed on his feet and charged.

"Stop it," Chill hissed, pushing him back. "That's not going to help."

Friend went and stood in front of the green guy. "Wait," he said. "Everything's okay, we're-"

He was cut off as he had to dodge a rather large fist coming towards him. The green guy growled in frustration at his inability to beat the tar out of everything within reach.

"Dude, calm down!" Light said with a slight huff, though keeping his distance. "Seriously! We're friends."

The guy paused and turned, frowning in confusion. "You," he said. "Sound same."

"...Thank you," Light said, even though it was obvious no one had any idea what the Green dude had meant by it. "You don't sound too different yourself. Now then, will you be a good monster and let us talk to you?"

The guy frowned. "Not monster," he said. "You monster!"

"Uh, no," Light said. "Hydra. Hydra monster. Light good guy."

"What are you saying?" Chill demanded. "Why are you talking like that?"

Light rolled his eyes. "Light not get punched," he said cockily. "Friend got swung at."

"Dude, that's annoying," Friend said. "Stop it."

"Fine," Light said. Then he turned to the other bed. "You," He stated, causing the kid there- sitting up and staring at the whole thing like it was some sort of nightmare- to flinch.

Light softened slightly. "Uh, welcome to the Caravan," he said. "This is gonna sound crazy, yada-yada-yada, pretty much, we're a bunch of experiments locked in here for the foreseeable future. Don't touch our stuff, three square meals a day, we'll all introduce ourselves in a minute. Just thought I'd get that outta the way before going back to Muscles over here."

That said, he turned back to "Muscles."

"We trapped?" The guy said.

"Yes," Light answered. "And Hydra hurt us. They made us not us, and changed us. And apparently they removed all of your education while they were at it."

The guy looked slightly confused at the last part. "What?" He asked.

Light shook his head. "Nevermind," he said. "So tell me, why did you stop when you heard me?"

The guy shrugged. "Sound same," he said again.

"...Right, okay, no help there," Light said. "Time for introductions. My name is Light." He looked pointedly at Friend, who picked up the cue.

"My name's Friend," he said.

The guy grunted. "Trick," he said. "Friend not name!"

"Neither is Light," Chill noted. "Yet, you had no problem with that."

The guy frowned at Chill. "Light made sense," he said. "Why he Friend!?"

"Because I'm a nice guy," Friend said flippantly. "And because Sparky chose it."

"Who Sparky?" The guy demanded.

"I am!" Sparky said, grinning. "And that is Chill!"

"I am more than capable of introducing myself, thank you," Chill said in annoyance. "As previously stated, I am Chill."

"Wait," the guy in the corner spoke up quietly. "Why are you named Sparky and Chill?"

"Good question," Light said approvingly, turning to him. "You're smarter than most of these clowns. Sparky is Sparky because he can shoot electricity through his fingertips. And because he is Sparticus."

"And I am Chill because I am the coolest," Chill said. "Although I also have the tendency to freeze, so try not to touch my skin when I am blue."

The guy blinked, but nodded.

"I am Red," Red said. "For obvious reasons. I can also manipulate flame."

"Red easy to 'member," the green guy nodded appreciatively.

"And that's Reg," Light said, putting his arm around Reg before he could introduce himself. "Don't be fooled by his 'Regular' appearance, apparently, this guy's got strength."

Reg sighed and pushed Light's arm off his shoulder. "Pleased to meet you," he said politely, stepping forward and holding out his hand to the guy in the corner.

"You too," the kid in the corner said, hesitating for a second before reaching up to take it. His hand passed through it.

Everyone froze.

"...Whoa, I did not see that coming," Light said.

"I must admit, I'm impressed," Red said.

The kid, however, looked terrified. "H-how'd I do that!?" He demanded.

"Well, we're not entirely sure," Friend told him. "It must have something to do with whatever experiments they did on you."

"Dude, that's so cool," Light exclaimed, walking over and trying to take hold of the guy's hand. "Hmm… I can feel it. It must fluctuate, like Chill's radiation fever. But Man, Friend's hand went right through it!" He said, finishing with a grin. "You're like a ghost!"

"Well, you're certainly pale enough to be a ghost," Friend said. "Food'll get here in a couple hours, I'm sure you both are hungry."

"Yeah," the green guy said. "Hungry!"

"So then," Sparky said. "What shall your names be?"

Light looked up, distracted from where he was still examining the guy's, arm. "Ooh!" He said. "I know! Let's call him Ghost!"

"Ghost?" Red said. "Really? You're just saying that because that's what you called him a minute ago."

"Who cares?" Light said. "That's how we all picked our names. Just ask Chill."

Chill nodded.

"What do you think?" Friend asked the kid, who shrugged.

"Whatever you pick, it's fine with me," he said quietly, avoiding looking him in the eye.

Friend nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "Alright, then," he said. "Um, anyone else got any ideas?"

Everyone shook their heads, except for Sparky, who opened his mouth.

"No," Chill said dismissively, holding up a hand. "Don't even try."

"Yeah, you pick lame names," Light stated. "I think Ghost's the best bet, unless you wanna go for Ribsy."

"No," Friend said in indignation. "That's a dog's name!"

"Yeah, says the guy who named him Sparky," Light said, jerking a thumb toward Sparky, who frowned.

"I like the name," he insisted.

"Anyway," Chill said. "I don't care much for the name Ribsy either."

"WHAT ABOUT ME!?" The Green guy yelled in excitement.

"Whoa, dude, don't yell," Light said, wincing and turning toward him. "We'll work on it."

Everyone thought.

"The obvious choice is Green," Friend said. "But we already have a Red."

"And we don't want to make this the Red Green show," Light said. Nobody knew what he was talking about, so they all ignored him.

"How about Strongman?" Reg suggested.

"What!?" Light exclaimed in disgust. "No! That's the stupidest name I ever heard! Besides, he's not a wrestler."

"What?" Reg said. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"Besides, how do you know he's not a wrestler?" Chill pointed out sensibly. "He very well might be."

"Whatever, he's not Andre the Giant," Light said. "And we're NOT calling him Strongman!" This last sentence was pointed at Reg, and delivered with a glare that had poor Reg sputtering in confusion. Then Light suddenly gasped and turned back to the green guy with an expression that conveyed both excitement and urgency, not at all fitting the circumstance. "I'VE GOT IT!" he yelled. He grinned.

"...What!?" Friend demanded. "Tell us!"

"Muscles!" Light stated, holding his hands up as if he'd just given a hit pitch for a presentation.

Everyone groaned. "That's not good either," Friend said.

"Besides," Red spoke up. "You're just doing it again, nominating something just because you said it earlier."

"But it fits," Light said. "And it sounds totally tough! Like he's some kind of colossus or something."

"Come on," Reg said. "It's not cool. It sounds like a goon's name."

"I LIKE MUSCLES!" The green guy suddenly yelled angrily. "ME MUSCLES!"

"See?" Light said with a smirk. "Muscles totally agrees with me."

"YEAH!" Muscles yelled. "THAT'S MY NAME!"

"Fine, calm down," Friend said in alarm, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can be Muscles!"

"HA!" Muscles said. Then he turned to Light and held up one hand. Light grinned maniacally, and gave him a high five.

"Dude, you know what this means?" He demanded, turning and smiling at everyone. "I've named, like everyone! Except for Friend and Sparky, that is."

"No, that's not true," Sparky said. "Friend picked yours."

"...Alright, fine," Light said. "So I didn't pick my own name, or either of yours. I pretty much picked everyone elses."

"Not Chill's," Friend said. "He picked it himself."

"Yeah, but from my statements," Light said.

"That doesn't count," Friend argued. "You didn't suggest it as a name. You didn't even think of it."

"It still counts," Light insisted.

"No, I'm sorry, but it doesn't," Chill spoke up. "I picked it myself. You can't claim it."

"Well…" Light said, frowning. "Well, I picked Red's."

"True, you did pick Red's," Sparky agreed. "So that's one."

"What about Ghost and Muscles?" Light demanded.

"Yeah, so you get Muscles," Friend said. "But we never signed off on Ghost."

"Ultimately, it's up to him," Reg warned. "If he doesn't like Ghost, he doesn't have to be called Ghost."

"Who made you king?" Light said. "No need to get all high-and-mighty about it."

Reg frowned in exasperated confusion. "I don't even know why I try," he stated.

"That makes two of us," Light said before turning to the kid. "How about it?" He asked. "Do you think Ghost is cool enough for you?"

The kid looked a little startled to be suddenly pushed to the center of attention, but he looked around nervously and nodded.

"You don't have to say yes if you don't mean it," Reg said kindly. "Don't be afraid to tell Light what you really think."

"Jeeze, let the kid speak for himself," Light said. "He said he liked it. He wouldn't say it if he didn't mean it."

"Yeah," The kid said, speaking up a little louder. "I- I really do like it."

"There you have it," Light said. "So I picked his name too."

"Wow, Light," Red said sarcastically. "Three out of eight. That _is_ most of us."

"Yeah, and remind me how many people you named?" Light asked, teasing back. "Uh-huh, that's what I thought. None."

Surprisingly, Ghost chuckled. "So," he said. "Tell me more about this… Caravan."


	8. Red is Blue

Needless to say, tensions were high as the days passed. Everyone was here now, no one even thought that they might possibly get another roommate now that the beds were filled and the food came through all eight boxes. Red spent more and more time sparring with anyone who would join, while Sparky found himself accidentally shocking anyone who stood within three feet of him and Light only stirred from his hacking to take meal breaks, and even that because Friend made him do it.

So no one was all that surprised when the fight happened. I mean, really, they hadn't had a fight yet, and considering that they spent every waking moment in each others company, it was bound to happen sometime.

Light had been irritated when Friend interrupted him to come eat, and as a result, had suddenly decided that Ghost needed some prodding to open up. Ghost had stuck to himself since his awakening, and nobody forced him into anything. Except, apparently, Light.

To be fair, Ghost didn't seem to mind much, as Light sat next to him and started talking his ear off, alternating between ridiculing the rest of the group and stating things like "Come on, you're smart. I can tell. I could use a fresh perspective, you should totally come help me figure this out."

Ghost sighed. "Well, without a computer in my head, I wouldn't be much help," he stated for the eight time.

Light waved him off. "You won't need a computer in your head," he said. "I just need someone to bounce ideas off of. You know, a bit of creative advice? I think you'd be pretty good at that."

Ghost chuckled. "I don't know," he said. "I don't feel like an engineer. I think you'd be better off leaving me out of it."

"Aw, come on," Light prodded. "Give yourself some credit. You've got a brain behind those pale grey ghost eyes. I can tell."

"If he said he didn't want to do it," Reg stated. "He doesn't want to do it. Why can't you ever let things alone?"

Light raised an eyebrow, turning to Reg. "What, and let him sit here all lonely while you guys ignore his existence?"

Reg paused. "If that's what he wants," he said finally.

"Maybe he's just shy," Light offered. "Maybe he's one of those introvert types who only open up to people who are willing to put in the effort. Or maybe he's super stuck up and he's determined to ignore us until we've proven we're worthy of notice." Light turned back to Ghost and held his hand out. "Hi," he said with a smile. "I am most definitely worthy of notice. You can ignore Regular Guy over there. He doesn't want anything to do with you anyway."

"I never said that!" Reg exclaimed. "I was just saying-"

"You were just saying that I should stick to my own business and leave Ghostie here alone to watch you guys eat," Light said. "Forget it. I'll do what I'll do and you can huff at me in silence. Shut up."

Reg threw his hands up in frustrated surrender. "Yeah," he said, with a slight sigh. "Yeah, okay, whatever." Picking his bowl back up, he continued eating in silence.

Light watched him for a second, waiting to see if he would continue, then turned back to Ghost. "So then," he started.

"You're acting like a martyr," Chill interrupted. Light looked up at him in confusion. "No, not you, idiot," Chill told him. "Reg."

Reg looked up. "So now I'm a martyr?" He asked. "I just didn't want to argue with Light."

"I don't see the problem with that," Red offered.

"The problem," Chill said. "Is that he's playing as if he were being gracious, humbly stepping back and letting Light win even though he knew Light was wrong. But really, I feel that Light was right in this matter."

"You're bringing this all up and calling me a martyr because you're not satisfied with how the argument ended?" Reg asked incredulously. "What, do you _like_ seeking out drama?"

Chill smiled. "While a little drama now and then does sound… exciting," he said. "I more brought this up out of a sense of justice. I hardly think it fair for you to act all superior and good when you were in the wrong."

"You keep saying that," Red commented. "But who are you to decide which of them is right and which is wrong?"

"Simple," Chill said. "I was an impartial observer. Not part of the fight itself."

"By that logic, I was impartial too," Red stated. "What if I were to say that Reg was right and Light was wrong?"

"Guys," Friend tried. "Let's try to calm down."

"Oh, but you're far from impartial," Chill said to Red, ignoring Friend's warning.

"How is she not impartial?" Reg demanded. "She wasn't part of it at all!"

"Miss Red's opinion cannot be counted as impartial," Chill stated. "Because of her attraction to you."

Everyone paused.

"Awkward…" Light muttered.

"Yeah," Ghost agreed with a small chuckle. "Maybe he _does_ live for the drama."

"Excuse me, did you say my _attraction_!?" Red demanded angrily.

"Aye," Chill nodded, a small smile turning the corners of his mouth. "I've seen the way you two behave, always sitting together, always exchanging a glance, always in each others company-"

"Where else would we be, in this tiny Caravan!?" Reg demanded, his cheeks red.

"You're blushing," Chill announced. "You share the attraction."

"I- I do not," Reg started.

"Careful now," Chill warned. "You don't want to insult the lady."

Reg glanced at Red worriedly, before turning back to Chill, who laughed.

"Now see, what did I tell you," he said. "It is love! Oh, how fine!"

"Shut up," Reg ordered, stepping toward Chill threateningly, his face even redder than before. "Shut up before I make you!"

"Take one more step and you face me," Sparky said fiercely, now stepping up beside Chill.

"Two against one?" Reg laughed. "And here you were talking about justice."

Chill also seemed annoyed. "You know," he said, turning to Sparky. "I am not so incapable as to need your protection."

"But he threatened you," Sparky said angrily.

"Yes, and I can fight my own battles, thank you," Chill said.

"SHUT UP!" Everyone turned in surprise to where Muscles was sitting against the wall, glaring at everyone. "Voices annoying," he growled. "Trying to eat." Angrily shoving a bite of food in his mouth, he glared.

"Ahem, yeah," Light started, clearing his throat. "Sorry, Big Guy, we'll quiet down." Turning and chuckling to Ghost, he picked his own bowl back up.

The situation seemed to have diffused now, and Friend let out a sigh of relief.

"... It's just as well," Chill said as he picked up his bowl, smirking a little. "We would not want to hurt Reg's pride in front of his fiery lady."

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Without a word, Reg turned and punched Chill in the jaw, sending him falling backwards into Friend, who caught him.

Standing up, Chill smirked, a dangerously mischievous gleam in his eye. "Oh, it is on," he said, standing back tauntingly. "Come on, then, Reg. Take another swing. Do it for the honor of your lovely lady."

Pandemonium broke out. Reg stepped forward to take another swing, only to be stopped by Sparky, who grabbed hold of Reg's arm angrily. "YOU DARE HIT A COMRADE!?" He yelled, sparks coming out of his hands and shocking Reg, who grit his teeth.

"I can fight my own battles!" Chill said with a long-suffering sigh.

"You certainly know how to start them," Red exclaimed before jumping up and grabbing hold of Sparky's arm, twisting it just enough for him to release Reg's. The two stepped back.

"Guys, stop it!" Friend said desperately, going and standing between the two groups, Sparky and Chill on one side, Red and Reg on the other.

"Get out of the way," Sparky said lowly. "This battle does not concern you."

"Yes it does!" Friend said. "I am very much concerned!"

Everyone gasped as Chill suddenly disappeared, only to reappear behind Reg. "Behind you," he whispered.

Reg, already tense from the strain of the Caravan and from Chill's goading, turned and swung again, only for Chill to disappear a second time and materialize behind Sparky. "Are you going to stand for this?" He asked him, and Sparky turned, glancing at Chill with a smile.

Turning back to where Reg had turned again at the sound of Chill's voice, Sparky clenched his fist. "Reg," he said. "Put up your fists!"

"This is really getting messy," Ghost noted.

"Yeah it is!" Light responded. "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

"Don't encourage this!" Friend yelled desperately.

Red glared at Chill. "This has gone far enough," she said.

"Oh, I don't think so," Chill responded with a smirk. "It's just barely got going. Sparky, charge."

With a yell, Sparky ran forward and swung at Reg, who dodged it. Muscling up, Reg accepted his fate and swung back defensively.

"Reg, Sparky, calm down!" Friend tried.

"Keep at it, boys," Chill said calmly, leaning back against the wall.

"Oh, this is gold!" Light noted with a laugh.

"I just hope nobody gets hurt," Ghost sighed.

Meanwhile, Sparky continued to advance and Reg continued to defend, backing up step by step. Red tried in vain to stop Sparky, but all her ninjaness in the world seemed to have no affect on Sparky's strength.

By this time, Chill had gone to stand next to Light and Ghost. With a chuckle, he leaned towards Light. "Watch this," he said quietly before disappearing.

Reappearing behind Reg, he tapped his shoulder, disappearing again when Reg turned. This left Sparky an opening, and he managed to get in a good hit, sending Reg flying- Directly to where Muscles was sitting, watching in annoyance.

With an enraged yell, Muscles pushed Reg off him and threw his bowl to the ground, spilling the rest of the food. "THAT'S IT!" he yelled, standing up. "I SMASH YOU ALL!"

First, he punched Reg and sent him flying to the other side of the Caravan. Then he charged Sparky, who took the hit with a grin and punched back. They fought for a few moments, while Red went over to make sure Reg was alright, and Friend tried desperately to reason Sparky into stopping. Sparky ignored him and the two continued to fight, until finally Muscles got a powerful hit in, sending Sparky to the ground, momentarily dazed.

He then turned to Chill and sent his fist flying toward him, going right through him as Chill appeared behind him. "Missed me," Chill said.

Muscles roared and turned, missing again, as Chill began disappearing and reappearing about the room, never taking a single hit.

This continued for a few minutes more, before Red, now angry and cunning, rejoined the fight. She repayed Chill's earlier favor, and utilizing her quick feet and reflexes, stepped up behind him as he reappeared and tapped his shoulder. Turning his head for a split second, Chill realized the trick as soon as he fell for it. But it was enough to buy Muscles a hit, and as Chill turned back around, he caught it in the eye.

Falling back, Red caught him, and she held him up, sending her glaring gaze at Muscles. "You win," she said. "They're all out."

Muscles loosened up his shoulders and grinned. "That show them to mess my food," he said, turning away.

Suddenly, Red shrieked and dropped Chill, backing away.

"What happened?" Friend demanded as he, Ghost and Light all stepped forward.

"It- it burned," Red said, holding her hands out.

Looking down, they saw that Chill had turned blue, as he did sometimes, the affect the group had dubbed Radiation Fever, as he had no control over it and as it made him freezing cold to the touch when he turned. Stirring, he sat up. "Now, that's a wake up call," He said strainedly. "It burns."

"What did you do!?" Sparky demanded, now fully awake.

"I- I didn't do anything," Red exclaimed. "He-he did it to me!"

"You did it to each other," Light said, taking hold of Red's arms and examining them. "You're fire and he's ice. Your heat burned him and his ice burned you."

"That's so stupid," Chill said, sitting up and putting a hand to his blue face. "I suppose while I'm like this, you can't see whether or not the brute managed to give me a bruise?"

"No clue. Now shut up," Light said. "How bad are you burnt?"

"I'll survive," Chill said. "The pain is already fading. Part of this blasted fever, probably."

"Holy-!" Light said once more in regards to Red, as he let go of her hands and stepped back a bit.

"What!?" Red demanded.

"You… You're blue!" Light exclaimed.

"How are you doing that!?" Friend demanded as everyone stared.

Red looked down at her hands, the blue had started there and traveled up her arms, now her face was blue as well, while her hair turned black and her eyes turned orange. "I don't know!" She said, her eyes wide.

"Does it burn!?" Light asked.

"N-no," she said. "Just where I'd already touched him."

"How are you turning blue!?" Friend demanded.

"I don't know!" Red exclaimed again. "I just am!"

Her hair began going red at the roots again, and her normal appearance spread down from there.

"It's fading," Ghost noted quietly.

"You don't think she caught the Radiation Fever, do you?" Sparky asked Light.

Light shook his head. "No," he said. "We already decided it wasn't contagious, when you got slightly burned that one time and nothing else happened."

"Do you suppose you might have the ability to change your form?" Chill wondered. "And perhaps my transformation triggered this ability?"

Everyone considered this.

"How do you think of stuff like that?" Light asked. "Does that just pop to your head when someone turns blue?"

"It makes sense to me," Sparky stated.

"Let me try," Red said. "Maybe if I concentrate…"

Closing her eyes, everyone watched.

After a few moments, she opened her eyes and let out her held breath. "It's no use," she said. "I can't focus with these stupid burns on my arms."

"What happened?" Reg asked quietly, and everyone turned to see he had come to and joined the group, looking at the burns on Red's arms in concern.

"Oh, uh, she and Chill accidentally burned each other," Light explained. When Reg shot a glare at Chill, Light was quick to clarify. "It was after the fighting was over," he said. "Red was the one holding him up after she tricked him into letting Muscles knock him out. It was an accident."

"Sure, tell the whole story…" Chill muttered.

"Does it hurt?" Reg asked Red, ignoring Chill.

Red hesitated. "Whatever," she said finally. "No secrets here. Yes, it does."

"Can I try something?" Reg asked.

Everyone looked at him.

"I hope that wasn't as dirty as it sounded," Light stated.

"What?" Reg asked in confusion. "N-no! I think… I think I can heal her."

"What is up with everyone today?" Friend wondered aloud. "First Chill suddenly discovers he can rematerialize, then Sparky thinks the ability to just change your form makes sense, and now Reg decides he can heal people. Any other crazy ideas you guys wanna spit out?"

Sparky raised his hand, while Chill let out a chuckle. "I already knew I could rematerialize," he stated quietly.

Red held her hands out to Reg, who held them in his own. "I've already healed from the fight," he said. "So I know I have healing capabilities. Maybe I can transfer some to you?"

"Um, Friend's got healing powers too," Light said with a slight frown. "Why do you get to hold Red's hands?"

"Oh, don't start that again," Friend muttered, elbowing him. "Besides, I don't feel that way. She's like my sister."

Reg shot a frown at Light before turning back to Red and closing his eyes. after a few moments, the burns on Red's arm began fading, until they disappeared.

"Wow," Light noted. "So Regular Guy doesn't just muscle up or down at will. He also has freaky healing abilities. Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause if you will!"

"Cut it out," Reg said, turning red.

"Now then," Friend said. "While everyone's calm and not acting stupid, we need to come up with a few new rules."

Everyone looked at him.

"Number one," Friend said. "No picking fights in the Caravan. In these close quarters, it will always end in someone actually getting hurt."

"But with what we just discovered about Reg, we don't have to worry about that," Light pointed out.

"Second rule," Friend continued. "Don't get complacent. Even with Reg's new powers, we don't know the extent of his capabilities. Nobody be careless and die."

"That's a good point," Light admitted.

"Third rule," Friend said. "Muscles, even if you're baited into fighting, you gotta get that smash thing under control. You could've hurt somebody."

"Didn't," Muscles defended.

"I know you didn't," Friend said. "But you've got quite a punch there. Be careful. Which brings me to the fourth new rule: No picking fights with Muscles, no tricking other people into getting into fights with Muscles, and no making Sparky charge."

"You keep looking at me," Chill said with a smirk. "I assure you, I never pull the same trick twice."

The blue began to fade from Chill then, and Light chuckled. "Dude," he said. "You were right, Muscles did give you a black eye. It's a real shiner, too."

Muscles laughed. "Sorry smashed Chill's eye," he said to Chill. "But Chill deserved it."

"Okay," Light said. "I see the speech therapy is working so far. Next lesson, Muscles: Pronouns. Pronouns are beautiful shortcuts. You've gotta stop talking like we're all in third person."

Muscles looked properly confused as Light continued the lesson, he'd taken to working with Muscles where everyone else avoided correcting him, for fear of his hot temper.

As they talked, Chill turned to Reg with an easy smile. "Now, that was fun," he said. "No hard feelings for my little joke, I trust?"

"You were joking?" Reg asked in surprise.

"Of course, you idiot," Chill said. "Things were getting tense and boring. We needed a bit of an avalanche in order to avoid bringing down the mountain. And Red," here he turned from poor Reg, who looked at him incredulously before shaking his head and giving up. "Congratulations," Chill continued. "Not many people can pull a trick like that on me."

"People have tried?" Red caught, raising her eyebrow.

Chill blinked. "Come to think of it, I think they have," he said. "Now if only I could think up an example. Ah well. No hard feelings?"

Red gave a small smile. "Sure," she said. "We all learned a few things today, so it wasn't a waste of our oh-so-valuable time. No hard feelings."

The doors of the windows all slammed shut then, and everyone turned in surprise.

"Aw man," Friend lamented, looking around and seeing all eight bowls around the room. "Next meal will be a sloppy one, guys," he warned.

Everyone groaned, and life settled back to normal for the eight members of the Caravan.


	9. If There's One Thing We've Learned

_Author's note: Sorry I'm a day late again. Don't know how I feel about this chapter, but I've been a bit off my game lately and think, at least for now, that it's good enough. At any rate, this marks the end of Act I. Act II will begin next week, and just like with this chapter, it will begin an era of flitting between Friend's perspective and SHIELD's perspective, and every once in awhile, the perspective of one of the other teens. It will be at that time that many questions will be answered, including SHIELD putting together who's who, what powers they have, what might have happened to make them the way they are, etc, etc. Of course, they themselves will still only be guessing, but it will still begin to make a bit more semblance of sense for the readers. We will also begin exploring the strange new world as ruled by Hydra, and we'll be introducing our new heroes to the war. So stay tuned, readers, for Act II. In the meantime, __I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for following this story!_

* * *

The next day, when Friend called Light to come eat breakfast, Light waved him off testily.

"Not now," he said. "I'm close to a breakthrough."

That caught everyone's attention. "What do you mean?" Red asked, putting her bowl down.

"I mean I'm about to hack into something big," Light said. "I've been working on it all night. Once I get past this firewall, I'll have total access. I'll still have to be careful, but I'll be in."

"Good job," Friend said. "But you still need to eat."

"Oh, come on," Light growled. "It's just one meal. It doesn't matter. If I get through, I might be able to figure out how to escape, or I could use Mahavir to send for help. We'll eat when we're free."

"But that could be a few days yet," Chill noted. "I agree with Friend, Light. You need to eat."

"Oh, don't you start on me, now," Light argued. "I'm just fine. I'm not even hungry anyway. Now everyone shut up, I need to concentrate."

The seriousness in his voice made the rest of the group stop and hold their breaths, as Light frowned, his eyes closed, and began muttering silently to himself. After a few minutes, he smiled. "I did it," he said, opening his eyes and panting breathlessly. "I got past the firewalls."

Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"That's amazing," Reg stated.

"GO LIGHT!" Muscles yelled.

"What are you going to do?" Friend asked.

"You should find out where we are," Sparky said. "Maybe you can find out where we're being held in the base."

"And you could access our personal files, if you can find them," Red said.

"Hold your horses, everybody," Light said as he closed his eyes, though the half-smile on his face showed he was happy with all the excitement he'd caused. "I'm working on things one at a time. Starting with where in the base we're held. Then I'm gonna look for a list of threats."

"Threats?" Sparky asked. "Why would you look for threats?"

"I mean threats against Hydra," Light explained. "They've gotta have enemies somewhere. If I find a list of their enemies, I might be able to contact them using the internet."

"Makes sense," Friend said, ignoring an uneasy feeling in his gut. "What'd'ya got so far?"

"Well, I just found the floor they did the experiments on," Light said. "That's the same floor we're on, we know because I monitored the security cameras when they took Sparky and Friend."

"Wait, when they what?" Ghost asked.

"Oh, that was before your time," Sparky noted.

"I know what floor we're being held on!" Light announced, reclaiming everyone's attention. "We're in a large metal cell on level B-6. I guess that's a basement level."

"Do you know how to escape?" Reg asked.

"Not yet," Light said. "I just got a hit on an algorithm. I'm close… Got it. I'm in the threat list."

Suddenly, the sound of a siren went off somewhere, and everyone jumped.

"Oh no," Light said, frowning. "No, no no no... I've been caught!"

"What!?" Red exclaimed. "What do you mean, you've been caught!?"

"When I accessed the file, they detected my presence in the system," Light said. "They're trying to trace the virus... I can't... I can't stop it! It's too strong of a program! They're tracing it!"

"Send for help," Friend ordered. "Before they shut you down! It's our only hope now!"

"Sending..." Light muttered. "As much info as I can fit... marked urgent SOS... There, it's sent."

"Who'd you send it to?" Reg asked. "We need to know who to trust when we're rescued."

"SHIELD," Light said. "Top of the list. Felt right. Shields protect, you know?" He cursed. "They've found me," he said. "They're coming now."

"Everyone go stand next to your bed," Friend said. "Put your hands on the back of your head and face the wall."

"We're not going to fight!?" Sparky demanded.

"We can't," Friend said. "We'd only get killed in the process. We have to stay back."

Light looked positively white as he nodded. "Get out," he said. "You guys, you've got a chance. Get out with SHIELD. If you die here, _nobody_ escapes."

"We're not gonna leave you here to die yourself," Chill said angrily.

"Fine, then don't," Light said. "But wait for SHIELD before attacking. Come on, Chill, you know that's the only option."

Chill huffed angrily and turned away.

Ghost stood up and walked over to Light. "Thanks," he said quietly. "For sending the message. Without it, we'd all be screwed."

"And you will be anyway unless you move now," Friend said. "They're coming!"

Sure enough, there was noise coming from the other side of the door, and Light nodded to everyone before walking calmly to the middle of the room and getting on his knees, hands behind his head.

Everyone else ran to the wall and did as Friend had ordered, placing their hands behind their heads and facing the wall.

Friend did the same, but used his eyes, his dark eyes, to make out the scene from the reflection of the steel walls. The door opened and HAZMAT dudes burst into the rooms, weapons pointed everywhere. They grabbed Light by his arms and fastened them behind his back, injecting him with something, knocking him out immediately. Limp, they dragged him from the room, and the other HAZMAT dudes all backed out through the doorway, their guns still pointed at the frozen teens.

The door slammed shut.

Everyone breathed again.

Muscles roared in anger, turning and punching his bed so hard it bent in the middle.

Red sat in shock on her bed, staring at the floor as if she couldn't believe what had happened. Reg went and sat next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

Sparky sat on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands wearily, while Ghost just sank to the floor where he stood, not moving from his spot on the wall, sitting against it and staring at the door.

Chill started pacing up and down the aisle, obviously still angry.

And Friend didn't know how to help any of them. This was his fault. He'd known the risks, and he'd still let Light continue hacking, in the hopes that they'd get lucky. He should have known. Nothing was ever lucky about their lives. And now... well, now Light would pay the price for their freedom.

"Self-sacrificing idiot," Chill muttered as he paced by.

Friend finally sat down on his own bed, closing his eyes. Just like when Sparky had been taken the first time, he felt helpless. Light had told him then, that they only thing he could do was wait and not let his fear control him. Now, he clung to that memory. It was the only thing he could do, at least until SHIELD got here.

If they had even got the message.

* * *

"What do you mean, we got a message from Hydra!?" Fury demanded, as Hill stood her ground.

"Exactly that, sir," she said. "It just arrived a moment ago. It's marked "urgent SOS," whatever that means. We think it might be a trap."

"Have you run it under the tests?" Fury asked.

"We're doing so as we speak," Hill said. "We'll know if it carries a virus any second now."

With a beeping sound, Hill turned to a computer. "No virus," she said. "Just plain, unencrypted text."

"Open it, then," Fury said.

"Sir?" Hill asked, turning to him questioningly.

"Hydra has many prisoners, in many unknown bases," Fury told her. "If one of them managed to hack their system and send us an email, I want to read it before Hydra finds out how to destroy it."

"Yes sir," Hill said, opening the email. Everyone in the room stared up at the screen.

"Experiments trapped, alive. Send help. Locked on level B-6. Seven together. Powers. Hydra projects. Memory wiped. No time."

Along with this message was a geographical location provided in longitude and latitude, and an entry code for the base. The base was located in Vienna, which was surprisingly close by: The new SHIELD secret base was set up between Vienna and Cluj-Napoca.

In the back of the room, Coulson stood up. "Sir," he said quietly, walking over quickly. "Seven of them, with powers, memory wiped," he repeated. "Do you think there's a chance...?"

"There's always a chance," Fury said, allowing himself to hope. "Mobilize a team. The two of you are going in personally. I want this as quiet as possible. And don't even mention the name Avengers. I don't want to raise false hope."

Coulson nodded. "I'll get the quinjet," he said.

"I'll pull a response team," Hill stated.

They both rushed from the room, and Fury stared at the message. Someone had been smart enough to hack Hydras files and send an email to an unknown address for an organization that, for all intents and purposes, didn't exist. Fury had his suspicions on the who. He could only hope he was right.

* * *

An hour after Light had been taken, the mood hadn't changed at all for the people in the Caravan. They all sat in shock, staring at the floor, the ceiling, the windows, the door- Anything but Light's empty bed, with the corner torn off his blanket, and the slight dip in the bed where the metal had sunk when softened by Red's fire, and though it sounded super cheesy even in his head, Friend noticed that the room was a little dimmer without the glow from Light's eyes.

Not to mention, Light had been the biggest talker of the group, and the silence was way heavier than it should have been. Nobody was saying anything. They all just sat and avoided looking at each other.

Briefly, Friend wondered what they were doing to Light, wherever they'd taken him. Now that they knew about the hacking, it wasn't like with him or with Sparky. They would do anything to stop Light in the future. If that meant killing him… so be it. And he had no idea whether or not they would do it with mercy; for all he knew, they would kill him slowly and painfully. Or maybe they would do some horrible experiment or something. Friend might not have known the numbers like Light would have, but he knew the odds weren't good.

These thoughts and thoughts like them had been running through Friend's mind for the entire time Light had been gone, but now he found himself distracted as a siren suddenly went off again.

Everyone jumped up.

"What's going on?" Reg demanded.

"Do you think they'll come back?" Ghost whispered.

Friend shook his head. "No," he said. "This… this is probably SHIELD."

Probably. There was every chance that the HAZMAT dudes would come back. Who knew but that they'd discovered about the message Light had sent? There was no way Light would intentionally give any information, but if torture was involved…

Mentally, Friend slapped himself on the face. There was no good thinking like this. He had to take charge, he had to protect everyone else, from whoever came through that door.

"Everyone, listen up," he commanded as he heard people running past their door. "Muscles, you and Sparky stand in front. Red, Reg and I will be behind them, and Chill, you and Ghost stand in the back."

Chill nodded, knowing that he was placed in the back not because he was weaker than the others, but to protect Ghost if things went badly.

From beyond the door and far down the hall, Friend heard the sound of a machine gun. Red, standing next to Friend, turned to him and raised an eyebrow. Friend wasn't sure how, but he knew that to mean she was asking him if he'd just heard what she did, and he nodded imperceptibly. Whatever was happening, there was a fight going on. And it was getting closer.

"Steady," Friend said, as the sound of an explosion echoed in the Caravan, and judging by the reactions from the rest of the group, was heard by all this time.

In front of him, Sparky clenched his fist, while in the corner of his eye, Friend saw Reg slowly muscle up.

They waited.

There was a rather un-manly scream from the other side of the door, and many footsteps, as well as more gunfire.

Then there was quiet.

And then…

The door began to creak.

"Steady…" Friend said again.

The door opened, and the group was met by five or six people in helmets and bullet-proof vests, all pointing guns at them.

Muscles growled.

"It's them," one man, the leader, said. "At least…" the man lowered his gun and looked around, obviously in surprise. "Is it?"

Friend took a deep breath and stepped between Muscles and Sparky, moving to the front. "We're the prisoners who contacted you," he said. "That is, assuming you're SHIELD."

The man nodded. "I'm of SHIELD," he said. "It's just… we were um, expecting someone else."

Friend frowned in confusion. Who could they possibly have been expecting? Oh well. It didn't matter right now.

The Agent also seemed to think there were more pressing matters at hand, as there was another explosion nearby. He and the rest of the team all raised their guns again and turned back to look through the door. "Anyway, let's go," the agent said, glancing, once again, at Muscles. "We'll uh, figure everything out back at HQ. Come on, um… Kids. We don't have much time. It's just us against Hydra."

"Wait," Friend said. "There was another prisoner, he's the one who hacked the system and contacted you. He was discovered."

The leader paled. "You're kidding," he said.

"He was taken an hour ago," Friend continued. "I don't know where he is. But you guys gotta go get him."

The leader exchanged a glance with another member of the team, a woman, who pursed her lips, then nodded. The Agent recocked his gun and ran off.

"Alright," the woman said. "You're with me. We've got three Quinjets waiting for us. Let's move out."

Turning, she motioned for two of the others to move out in front, and without thinking, Friend moved to follow, nodding to the rest of the Caravan as he went. Red followed behind him, while the others hesitated for a moment before another explosion caused them to step into place behind them. Once all seven had left, the woman and the last agent fell into the rear, and glancing behind him, Friend saw the woman looking at the group in confusion.

Whoever SHIELD had been expecting, it obviously hadn't been them.

The group moved in silence, and there were surprisingly no enemies in sight the whole time. Either SHIELD had been very thorough, or luck was shining on them for once. Or it was a trap.

Friend slowed to a stop, Red doing the same. Exchanging a glance, she pursed her lips. She'd thought it too, then.

"Wait," the woman whispered, the two agents leading the group stopping and turning to look at her questioningly. The other teens also stopped. The woman looked at Red and Friend, something akin to recognition in her eyes, yet also wariness and suspicion. "What is it?" she asked them. "What did you see?"

This question startled Friend, and he blinked, wondering if he could trust this woman after all. She seemed to read his expression, and as she looked even more convinced by what she saw, he was startled to find that he was able to read her as well.

Whatever the case, he suddenly discovered he felt like he could trust her, so he spoke up.

"I didn't see anything," he said. "But something in my gut's telling me this is too easy."

The woman nodded, frowning again. "Well," she said. "If there's one thing we've learned, it's to listen to our guts."

She nodded imperceptibly at him this time, and Friend realized that she had been speaking to him in code of sorts, and again, he had known it. She felt that she knew them, just like he felt he knew her, and she was letting him know that she trusted their judgement.

He looked at Red again, and she nodded. Then he turned to the rest of the Caravan. "Get ready," he said. "Watch your six. We don't know what's ahead."

They all nodded, and the woman worried her bottom lip, obviously conflicted about something.

"Move out," she whispered, and the two agents in front nodded, holding their guns a bit tighter and moving with a bit more caution.

Their luck continued for awhile longer as they maneuvered throughout the base, going up floor after floor, until they reached the main floor. Friend could tell they'd reached it because the air seemed slightly fresher, and the light was slightly more natural. Leaving the staircase behind, they once again began making their way down several hallways, past several doors, until they stepped into a large open room, set up like a standard bar. The front for the base.

"This way," One of the agents whispered.

Suddenly, the air was rent with gunfire.

"Get down," the woman ordered, though everyone had already gone to the floor instinctively. Moving quickly to find cover, they all ducked behind a nearby counter as the agents began opening fire into the room.

One of the agents cursed. "How are we gonna get to the door?" He asked no one in particular.

The woman glanced at Friend again. "You have a plan," she guessed.

Friend looked around at the others from the Caravan. He knew they would follow him anywhere. Even to death if he was wrong. He nodded reluctantly. "Chill can rematerialize," he stated. "He could take them out and they wouldn't even notice."

The woman looked around for "Chill."

"That's me," Chill informed her. "And yes, I can."

The woman considered this. Then she nodded. "Go," she said. "Agents, cover him. Draw their fire, keep their attention on us."

The agents nodded, and all four of the adults re-opened fire into the room as Chill disappeared with a grin.

After a few moments, the room quieted. Chill reappeared. "Done," he stated. "The fools never saw me."

Again, Friend noticed the agents exchange knowing, yet confused glances. Then the woman stood. "Make for the door," she ordered. "We have no time to lose."

"What about Light?" Sparky demanded.

"What?" The woman asked. "What about the lights?"

"Light's the name of our friend," Friend explained. "It's uh… It's a long story."

The woman nodded. "If your friend is still alive," she said, turning back to Sparky. "Coulson will find him. We'll leave one of the quinjets for him. But if we don't get back to HQ, we'll all be captured by Hydra."

Friend nodded to the others. If they were all captured again, Light's sacrifice would be for nothing.

And so they all ran for the door. Stepping out into the sunshine, Friend was nearly blinded. After having spent the past few months in the dark Caravan, the midday sun was terribly bright. Hearing the others hiss behind him, he suddenly laughed. "We're a bunch of vampires," he stated as he lifted his arms to shield his eyes. "That's totally possible. Come on, guys, we're almost in the clear."

He felt hope surge through him as he made for the nearest quinjet. Stopping at the door, he turned around to make sure everyone got in. Red made it first, immediately opening a hatch in the quinjet and grabbing a gun before returning to the door to provide extra cover.

"Hey, what are you-" the pilot yelled, turning around. Then he stopped and gaped as the rest of the Caravan ran towards the jet.

Sparky made it second, followed immediately by Muscles and then Chill.

"Take off," the woman agent ordered, running up to the quinjet. "Manfredi! Johnson! You go with them."

Two of the agents climbed aboard, pushing a button to shut the door. Red sighed and tossed the gun to Friend, who caught it and turned, pointing it at the bar front as the others ran for a second quinjet. The woman looked at him and sighed, but said nothing about the gun.

There was more gunfire then, and Friend turned to see a group of people come running from a building two doors down. He recognized one of them as one of the impassive scientist who'd watched as he had been strapped to the table and cut.

At the same time, he saw movement from the door they had exited the base from, and saw the man- Coulson- come running through, carrying Light, who wasn't moving.

For a split second, a whirlwind of emotions crowded Friend's mind. Fear, hope, anger, worry, and relief at having been rescued at last all mixed together into pure adrenaline, which melted into calm as quickly as it had appeared. He knew what he had to do.

Turning back to the group of Hydra members, he raised his gun and fired six quick shots in succession, without even blinking an eye, aiming for the scientist first. One by one, all six went down.

Coulson paused, staring at Friend in shock, and then he continued running to the last Quinjet. Friend moved to join him, but was stopped by the woman.

"No," she said. "You're coming with me."

"But I need to ride with Light," he stated.

The woman shook her head. "Help will come quicker for him if you're not there," she said bluntly. "Now get in the quinjet." When he glared at her, she softened. "Look," she said. "I have just as many questions as you do. But I can promise you, the longer we stay out here, the sooner Hydra finds us, and this time, they will kill."

Turning back to the third quinjet, Friend saw the door close as it slowly began rising into the air. He sighed.

"Guess I don't have much choice now," he said, storming past the woman and stepping into the quinjet. Sitting down next to Ghost, who looked white as a sheet, he tossed the gun to the woman, who caught it, and then frowned down at the floor.

Finally, he let it sink into him.

They were free. No matter the future, no matter what happened, they were truly, finally free.


	10. What Is Act II?

_Author's Note: Again, sorry I'm so late. This time, there were two problems. First, I was sick for the first half of the week, and didn't get any writing done. Then, when I finally started working on it, my laptop started having problems, so hence the late update. Anyway, I hope this chapter serves to clear up any confusion regarding the situation with Hydra, SHIELD, and the Avengers themselves. Enjoy!_

* * *

"What's your name?"

"Don't have one."

"How old are you?"

"I don't know."

"Where are you from?"

"No clue about that, either."

Phil Coulson sighed and exchanged a glance with Maria Hill, who was writing down the unhelpful conversation as they went. It had been like this with every teen they'd questioned; and now as the boy with black hair and eyes sat leaning in his chair glaring at them obstinately, the two agents were at the end of their rope.

"Look," Phil said, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We're trying to help you-"

"Oh yeah?" The kid asked dryly. "Then why won't you let me see my friend?"

Phil sighed. "I told you," he said. "Your friend is alright, he's being held for observation-"

"Yeah, you've told me a thousand times," the kid interrupted again. "But that doesn't change anything. Let. Me. See. Him."

"I can't do that," Phil said. "Unless you cooperate."

"Why would we cooperate," the teen said. "When you're no better than Hydra?"

This surprised Phil. "No better than…" he trailed off. "What are you talking about? We're trying to make an effort here!"

"Yeah, looks like it," the kid said sarcastically, leaning back in his seat. "We've been here for eight hours, and so far, you've locked us all in a room, held our friend for 'observation,' and you've been interrogating us one at a time since we showed up."

"We can't just drop you off at a bus stop and say good luck, have a nice life!" Phil said. "You were in a Hydra research facility, as human experiments! We're doing the best we can under the circumstances. Until you cooperate, we can't do anything for you."

"Until you show us an act of good faith," the teen said, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. "We're never gonna cooperate."

Phil sighed in exasperation and put his head down on the table. This kid was being frustrating beyond belief. Aside from that, he kept making faces like Clint Barton, and Phil was getting a massive headache behind his eyes. How were they ever gonna get any answers?

Sitting back up, he looked to Maria for confirmation of his new plan. Maria pursed her lips and nodded.

"Alright," Phil said, turning back to the kid. "Here's the deal: We take you to see your friend, just you, and then we'll take you back to the others and question you all at once. And you get the others to cooperate, so we can get some answers about this whole mess."

The kid smirked and leaned against his chair again. "Deal."

* * *

As Friend followed Coulson and Hill to the hospital facilities, he took in everything about the base. The small hallways, the glaring overhead lights, the floors of bare concrete. Adding in the state of their current "quarters," Friend could make the following assessment: SHIELD wasn't doing so hot right now. Even Hydra's base had been better equipped.

"So what's with the lame base?" Friend asked. "You guys undergoing budget cuts or something?"

Coulson glanced back at him. "Well, sort of," he said. "We used to be employed by the government, but we had to go Ghost when the war started."

Friend looked at an open panel with sparking wires behind it. "War?" he repeated.

"Yeah, the war on Hydra," Coulson said. "Ever since Hydra took control a year ago, most of the old organizations had to go undercover or they were destroyed. Even after going undercover, some weren't as lucky as others. Only a few are still around."

Hill nodded. "We're on the lucky list," she said. "We've been attacked a few times, but we've managed."

"What's Hydra's deal anyway?" Friend wondered.

"Well, people have been asking that for years," Coulson stated. "Pretty much, Hydra is the supervillain equivalent of World War II's Nazi's."

"Supervillain?" Friend echoed. "You mean, like, with powers?"

"You guys aren't the only ones with special abilities," Hill said. "Heroes have been around since the forties."

Here was a tidbit of information. "Do these powers come naturally?" Friend asked. "Or does it happen through… experimentation?"

"It depends," Coulson said after a moment. "Some happen because of experiments gone wrong, or even experiments gone right. But some are natural."

Well, that didn't clear anything up. Friend sighed. Where had they gotten their powers? Were they experiments of Hydra's, or had Hydra taken them because they were gifted naturally?

After a moment, he spoke up again, with another question. "What does SHIELD stand for?"

Coulson chuckled. "Strategic Homeland Intervention: Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"Wow," Friend said. "I'd say SHIELD too. Are there other divisions of this Strategic Homeland Intervention, or did you guys just call it that because you really wanted the acronym?"

"...You know, I never thought about that," Coulson said. "Hill, are there any other divisions?"

"No idea," Hill said. "We're here."

All other thoughts fled as Friend looked at the door they had stopped at and Coulson pulled out a card key, swiping it in a card slot. The little light turned green and Hill opened the door, and the three entered the hospital ward.

There were curtains everywhere, portioning out the large room into small cubicles, with an aisle down the center. From different parts of the room, Friend could hear coughing or moaning, and quiet chatter from visitors or doctors.

Coulson and Hill led Friend down the aisle toward the back of the room, and Friend felt the eyes of everyone they passed, watching him curiously.

Going to the back, Coulson swiped his card through another machine, and led them into a small room.

There, lying on a cot with his wrists strapped down, was Light. Still unconscious, looking paler than Friend had ever seen him.

"Take those off," Friend demanded immediately, gesturing to the straps.

"We can't," Hill stated. "They're on for his own protection. We don't know what he'll do when he wakes up."

"He'll think he's still at Hydra," Friend said harshly. "He…" Friend hesitated. He didn't want to compromise Light, but he wanted to get the agents to understand. "He had nightmares about being strapped to an operating table," he finished. "He'll think he's still there."

Coulson and Hill looked at each other.

"Well," Hill said. "If you think it'd be better…" Reaching over, she undid the first strap, and nodded to Friend, who undid the other.

"What did they do to him?" Friend demanded as he stepped back.

"We're not sure," Coulson said tentatively. "When I got to him, they had him hooked up to some machine, I think they were trying to drain the power from the…" He trailed off.

Friend looked up at him. "From that thing on his chest?" He finished.

"...Yeah," Coulson nodded. "That thing. We'll know for sure what all happened when our tech team finishes reconstructing the damaged databanks."

"Databanks?" Friend said, standing up a little straighter. "They got data from the base?"

Coulson looked caught. "That's not what I meant," he tried.

"What about us?" Friend continued. "Where'd we come from? Who are we? Where did we get our powers?"

"We don't have all the information yet," Hill stated, shooting Coulson a glare. "The base was going to be destroyed. The computers were part way through a total wipe when we got there. Once we know what happened, we'll let you know. In the meantime, anything you can tell us will help."

Friend looked back down at Light, who seemed, for the circumstances, to be in good care. Turning back to the agents, he nodded. "Alright," he said. "Take me back to the others. We'll tell you what we know."

* * *

Coulson massaged his temple as he carried the eight bulky manilla folders into Fury's office. After hours of talking with the teenagers, followed by gathering information from the tech team, his headache had escalated from painful to excruciating. And it was only three in the afternoon.

No, wait. It was three in the _morning_. He would so need a few cups of coffee after this debriefing.

Walking in without knocking, he dropped the heavy files on Fury's desk and sat down. "There are eight total," he said, getting straight to the point. "Seven boys and one girl."

"I take it you got through to them?" Fury asked, opening the first folder.

"Yeah, well, they were more accommodating once we got Friend on our side," Phil stated.

"Friend?" Fury echoed.

Coulson pointed to the picture in the open folder. "He was the first to wake up," he explained. "No memory of anything prior to their cell. As far as we can tell, he's physically around seventeen years old. According to DNA testing and Hydra's databanks, he was once Clint Barton."

"...What." Fury stated in disbelief.

Coulson shrugged. "I've got three theories," he said. "Crazy, insane, and downright ridiculous. Which one do you wanna hear first?"

Fury continued browsing the file. "Surprise me," he said.

"Theory number 1:" Coulson said. "As part of experimentation, Hydra implanted massive amounts of DNA from the Avengers into teenage hosts, thus making them, in part, the Avengers. Theory number 2: Hydra managed to find a way to actually de-age the Avengers during experimentation, making them the actual Avengers, just younger. Theory number 3: The teens were created through bioexperimentation, using the Avengers DNA as base patterns, making them completely new versions of the Avengers."

Fury looked up at Coulson with his one eye. "That's the best you can come up with?" He said.

Coulson shrugged. "As far as we can tell, those are the most likely explanations," he said. "But for whatever reason, the teen they call Friend was once Clint Barton. And I believe it. I swear, the kid makes these faces, and it's like I'm having a flashback."

Fury examined the picture more closely. "Go on," he said.

"Well, according to Hydra's databanks, he was Subject Five," Phil continued. "He was bombarded with copious amounts of radiation, and was transfused with several different experimental drugs Hydra was developing, pretty much steroids. He's stronger, faster, and smarter than he should be, and if his eyesight was good before, it's nothing compared to what it is now."

"So Hydra's into making steroids," Fury noted under his breath. "Just what we need."

"He was also transfused with blood from Subject Three," Phil said. "Which was once Steve Rogers."

Fury looked up at him with a look that clearly said "Don't screw with me."

Phil nodded. "As a result," he said. "Friend now has a bit of the Super Serum in him, which is partially responsible for the increase in his mental and physical strengths, and it resulted in his having slight healing abilities. According to the databanks, the Serum is a key element in the drugs Hydra now uses in their soldiers."

"Is there any good news?" Fury demanded with a glare.

"No sir, I'm afraid not," Phil said. "Unless you count the fact that at the very least, we now have the Avengers with us, and any information or research Hydra gained was lost with their base."

"Small blessings," Fury said. "Is there anything else important I need to know about this one?"

"They call him Friend," Phil said. When Fury glared at him again, he held up his hands in defense. "Hey, I didn't pick it," he said. "That's just what they all started calling him, when they couldn't remember his real name."

"Is there anything else important about _this one_?" Fury asked again.

"Just the basics," Phil said. "He's 6'0", 201 pounds, and exceptionally strong, thanks to the serum. He also seemed to have become the unofficial leader of the group, probably because he was the first to wake up."

Fury nodded his understanding, then went on to the next file. "Thor," he said, seeing the picture.

"Yep," Phil confirmed. "And as crazy as it sounds, he's actually not much different than his adult self."

"Aside from his memory loss and sudden transformation into a teenager?" Fury asked.

"I guess they couldn't really do much to an Asgardian," Phil shrugged. "The teens all assume that his strength and battle tactics came from experimentation, but really the only thing that happened to him was he gained control of electricity without having to use Mjolnir."

"Did you recover the hammer?" Fury asked.

"No sir," Phil said. "We were unable to locate it."

"How is he able to control the lightning?" Fury wondered, reading the file.

"Well, the teens say he remembers being struck with red lightning," Phil said. "But according to the databanks, he was being bombarded with radiation, and he called the lightning to him in an attempt to escape. The lightning coursed through him and the radiation followed the electrical current. That's how he got his red lightning."

"Interesting," Fury said. "What else?"

"Thor goes by Sparky," Phil said. "And I guess that was Clint's idea of a joke, that Thor just ended up liking. He's 6'2", and he's 220 pounds of muscle. He's around 18 in maturity, but physically speaking, that makes him around 500. You know, Asgardian years."

Fury closed Thor's file and opened the next.

"Tony Stark," Phil said before Fury had a chance to ask.

Fury raised his eyebrow. "That's Tony Stark?" He asked incredulously, picking up the picture of the pale teen with white hair. In the picture, the teens' eyes were closed, as he was still out from the ordeal with Hydra.

Phil nodded. "Subject Six. He has the Arc Reactor to thank for his appearance," he explained. "According to the databanks, they used the power of the Arc Reactor to power several different implants, in an attempt to engineer cyborg technology for their armies. He has repulsor ray technology in his hands, though the teens don't know it, and he has wires and conduits running alongside his bones. They serve as a second nervous system, running to the Arc Reactor. The Reactor itself has been fused into his flesh and serves as a second heart."

"Wow," Fury noted.

"That's not even the strangest part," Phil stated dryly. "The new element Tony Stark used in the Arc Reactor leaked into his bloodstream during experimentation, and the element quickly became dominant. His blood is now 40% the new element. His blood glows in the dark, just like his hair and his eyes."

"His eyes?" Fury repeated.

"Yeah, his eyes changed," Phil said. "They're the same color as the Arc Reactor. Fluorescent blue. But that's _still_ not even the strangest part."

"Tell me what the strangest part is, then," Fury ordered.

"He's got several implants in his brain," Phil said, pointing to one of the pages in the file. "In several different locations. Together, these implants make up the core elements of a computer."

"A what!?" Fury demanded.

"A computer," Phil said again. "He's got a computer in his head. That's how he hacked the system. Hydra implanted a computer into his brain as part of the experimentation. I don't know why they didn't shut it down when they memory wiped him. Unless he knew what they were about to do and put up a failsafe. That's it as far as his experimentation. When it was discovered that he hacked Hydra's system and sent us a message, they took him and hooked him up to a machine, we think they were harvesting the energy of the Arc Reactor. They were mid-transfer, they had a portable device they were storing the energy in. We shut down the transfer, and the Arc Reactor is generating new energy to replace what it lost. He's still out from the drugs and from the loss of energy, but he should recover completely. Physical attributes, he's 5'10", and he weighs 194 pounds. As far as we can tell, he's around 17."

Fury nodded, looking slightly put out as he closed the file and opened the next one. "Loki," he said immediately.

"Loki." Phil agreed. "Subject Seven. They managed to do a bit more to him than to Thor, but again, they were more studying him than doing research. He can do everything he was always able to do; teleport, cast illusions, that kind of thing. The teens all think it's due to the experiments, they don't know he could always do it. However, according to Hydra's databanks, he shifted into his Jotun form once during an experiment, and they began trying to discover his true form, resulting in him losing control of his transformation. He shifts between his Asgardian form, his Jotun form, and his human form. The teens call it Radiation fever, since they don't know he's not human, they think-"

"They think it's from the experiments, I know," Fury snapped. "This is all very frustrating, agent."

"And we're only on the fourth one," Phil noted. "If you're getting a headache, you'd better take some acetaminophen now before we go much farther."

Fury nodded and rubbed his head. "Just keep going," he said.

"Alright," Phil said. "Loki is called Chill, due to his habit of turning Jotun, dropping his body temperature enough to burn anyone who touches him. The kids don't know this, but he also has the tendency to create ice from the water in the atmosphere, one incident during experimentation was put to a grinding halt when he instinctively caused a layer of ice to freeze over every surface, and Hydra had to stop experiments to melt it all and get the machines working again."

At this, Fury chuckled. "Sounds like something he'd do," he stated.

Phil gave a half smile before continuing. "Teen Loki is 6'0", he's around 17, making him… a little less than 500 years old, and he's 170 pounds, but he's exceptionally strong due to his Asgardian and Jotun physiology."

"Does that make him weaker when he's in his human form?" Fury asked.

"Unfortunately, yes." Phil confirmed. "But even then, his strength is above average for his size. Moving on to the next one, we have Subject Two, Natasha Romanoff."

Fury opened the next folder. "What happened to her?" He asked.

"Bombarded with radiation," Phil explained. "With her, they were testing their ability to unlock mutant genes in people, although some of their attempts caused unintentional side effects. They attempted to give her the ability to control the element of fire, but it was forced mutation; the radiation left her with a higher body temperature, and left her appearance the way you see now. While the control of fire was what they were going for, they also unlocked her true mutant potential, which is the ability to shift her appearance."

"You mean like that mutant involved in the whole "Magneto" debacle?" Fury asked. "What was her name… Mystique?"

"Just like that," Phil affirmed. "Natasha, or Red, as the teens call her, now has the ability to shift her appearance. In her usual form, she's 5'4", she's around 16, and she weighs 118 pounds."

Fury sighed and closed the folder, opening the next one. "I'm assuming this is Captain Rogers," he said.

"You're right," Phil said. "Subject Three. Captain Steve Rogers. The majority of his testing was regarding the serum, and it was studied after being removed. While they did a few experiments, it was just the basics. Radiation flooding, drugs, the works. Most of which had little to no affect, as his high metabolism and serum-enhanced blood neutralizes threats of that sort. Some changes were made, however. His advanced healing can be applied to others through physical contact."

"Really?" Fury said. "That's handy."

"And he also has very slight shifting abilities," Phil continued. "He can't really change his appearance, but he has the ability to "muscle up" when he needs to be strong, and then back down when his strength is no longer needed."

"Why'd his hair change?" Fury asked, examining Steve's brown hair in the picture.

"We don't really know that, sir," Phil said. "The psychiatrist who examined them suggested that it might have gone a shade darker as a result of the physical and mental trauma of the experimentation, but it could also have changed due to the radiation testing."

Fury considered this. "Anything else I need to know?" He asked.

"That's about it," Phil said. "He's called Reg by the others, short for Regular Guy. He's around 18, he's 5'11", and he weighs 190 pounds. At least, that's how much he weighs when he's powered down. It varies depending on how strong he needs to be."

"That leaves two more rescues," Fury said, eyeing the last two folders. "And there's only one more Avenger. Tell me this isn't going to be what I think it is."

"Unfortunately, I can't do that," Phil said. "They successfully split Doctor Banner and the Hulk."

Fury sighed and rubbed his temple before opening the next file. "Tell me what you've got so far."

"Well, it took quite a lot of experimentation, but they seem to have developed some way to take him apart on a microscopic level, and they separated the two entities one piece at a time."

"That's a bit extensive, don't you think?" Fury asked. "How does separating the Hulk from Dr. Banner help Hydra's research?"

Phil shrugged. "I'm not sure what they were trying to accomplish with it. Unless they were in it purely for the scientific curiosity. At any rate, both Banner and the Hulk survived, the Hulk because he's indestructible, and Dr. Banner because they pumped him with serum the whole time."

"Does that mean this one has super serum as well?" Fury asked, picking up the picture of what was once Bruce Banner.

"Unfortunately, no," Phil said. "The procedure was too volatile. They had to keep a constant stream to keep him alive, the separation used it all up faster than they could put it in. They almost lost him four times, and now his structural integrity is compromised."

"Compromised how?" Fury asked.

"The teens call it phasing," Phil said. "His body fluctuates solidity. The matter they manipulated is now in a constant state of flux. When it fluctuates, matter can pass right through him."

Fury frowned as he read the file. "What does this mean for Dr. Banner?" He asked.

"He'll always be compromised," Phil said. "Physically, he's a liability to the team. His body can't handle physical strain or fatigue, and though there's always a chance an attack will go right through him, if he takes even a single hit, it could mean death. However, he retained the qualities he had as Dr. Banner, and has a knack for science. He also seemed to hit it off pretty well with Stark, according to the teens."

"I'm not surprised," Fury noted. "The two of them got along from the start."

"I guess wiping their memories couldn't affect their relationships with each other," Phil said. "According to the teens, Stark also had problems with Captain Rogers, while Loki and Thor have a sibling relationship going on as well. And anyone can see that Clint and Natasha are just as in sync as always."

Fury nodded his understanding.

"Banner is now around 16 years old," Phil continued after a moment. "At 5'8", he's shorter than all but Natasha, and he's the skinniest of them all at 102 pounds, though that does tend to fluctuate as well. The name the teens gave him is Ghost, because of the phasing. Meanwhile, the Hulk is much the same he ever was, except they managed to de-age and memory wipe him as well. He, like Banner, is around 16, and the Hulk is 7'1", weighing 323 pounds of muscle. The teens call him Muscles. Apparently, Stark hit it off with him too, and even managed to calm him down when he first woke up. The teens say Stark was working with him to teach him better English."

Fury snorted, something Phil had never thought he would see. "Now that sounds like Stark," the director said, closing the file. "Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

"Only that the teens are definitely suspicious of us and our motives," Phil said, standing and gathering the folders. "But as soon as we explain all this, they should cooperate more."

"Agent," Fury said. "We're not going to explain all this."

Phil stopped. "...What." he repeated.

"We can't tell them who they are," Fury said. "Not right now. Not yet."

"Sir, they have a right to know-"

"I know that," Fury said. "And we're going to tell them as soon as we can. But right now, with Hydra looking for them, whatever knowledge they have makes them a liability. We're not even sure they're not bioengineered Hydra envoys, sent here in an elaborate trap for SHIELD."

Phil couldn't believe what he was hearing. "We have to tell them," he said. "They want answers just as much as we do! Even if we don't tell them, they'll figure it out eventually! What about Stark? He hacked Hydra. What's to keep him from accessing our files on them anyway? You can't possibly expect us to keep him sedated!?"

"No," Fury said immediately. "Let him hack. Let him hack all he wants. He can't access these files. Keep them off the computers."

Phil glared.

Fury sighed. "Look," he said. "I don't like this either. But it needs to be done. We can't let this leak. The world is full of Hydra's spies. Even here in SHIELD. The more people that know about this, the bigger the target sign on SHIELD."

"Then what do you propose we tell them!?" Phil demanded.

"Tell them that we're doing what we can," Fury said. "With the thousands of people going missing every day, they can't expect us to know each one. And let them search. They don't know they were de-aged, they'll be searching the databanks for missing teens answering their basic description. And with Hydra having removed most Avengers paraphernalia, the odds of them finding an old article and figuring things out are slim."

"That's not right," Phil protested.

"Regardless, it's necessary," Fury argued. "The best thing to do right now is keep them out of sight, keep them safe, and keep them busy. They are not prisoners, and they need to know that. If possible, we've got to get them to stay willingly. I want you and Hill to handle the situation personally, no other agents."

"How are we supposed to get them to stay willingly?" Phil asked. "They already made it very clear they don't want to be held here or anywhere else."

"Tell them the truth," Fury said. "Tell them that they're too volatile to go out into the world. Tell them about the war with Hydra, and offer to train them to control their powers. You know the Avengers, Phil. They need a reason to fight. Let's give them one."

"Am I gonna have to die again?" Phil asked sarcastically. "Because I'd like to avoid that, if that's possible."

"I'll see what I can do," Fury said. "Look, I don't expect you to agree with me, but this is the best course of action, and I command you to follow it through."

Phil huffed in frustration. "Yes sir," he said, picking up the files and turning to leave the room.

"Phil," Fury said.

Phil stopped. Fury never called his agents by their first names unless it was important. Turning back around, he looked at Fury expectantly.

"I know you don't like this," Fury said. "But I need you to trust me. Have I ever been wrong before?"

Phil sighed. "No," he said. "Maria says it often enough, Nick Fury is always right."

The corner of Fury's mouth turned up. "Let's hope this works out too, then," he said. "Dismissed."

Closing the door, Phil began walking up the hallway towards Maria Hill's office, already formulating a plan. Getting the de-aged memory-wiped Avengers to willingly stay on to train up as SHIELD agents would take all the persuading they could muster.


End file.
